Old Growth Forest
by Andreax
Summary: While following up a case of disappearing homeless, Mulder and Scully are pulled into the mystery.
1. Chapter 1

Old Growth Forest ch1

"God, my head hurts," I groaned as I began to surface from a strange, dark place where there were no dreams. It wasn't just my head that hurt. My whole body hurt and something sharp was pushing into my back. The first thing I saw when I dragged my eyes open was trees; lots and lots of trees.

"What the...?" I muttered as I tried to sit up. The effort doubled the pain in my head, however, so I stayed put. But I needed to find Mulder-he might be hurt. I took several deep cleansing breaths trying to ease the pain in my head.

"Scully?" I was very relieved to hear Mulder's voice calling me.

"Over here," I answered him. Some crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs began and then got louder as he approached me.

"You look as bad as I feel," he observed; his voice much closer now.

Opening one eye, I squinted at him. "Thanks, Mulder."

"Are you okay?" he asked, squatting down beside me.

"My head is pounding and my whole body aches. I feel like I was on the losing side of an argument with a bottle," I winced.

"I know what you mean." Mulder rubbed his temple.

"Where the hell are we?" I asked, still looking over at him with one eye open.

"In the forest," Mulder deduced with his usual brilliance.

"Thanks," I sighed.

"Best I can do," he shrugged. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Being at the professor's house *and* having a cup of coffee. We should have known better." I shook my head slightly. The motion made me feel queasy.

"He looked so harmless," Mulder grimaced. "But it looks like we were on the right track."

"Yeah, he must have been responsible for those disappearances, but why?" My head hurt too much to think about it.

"I dunno, but at least we know the how." He reached out and brushed a strand of hair off of my face.

"What? Drugging them and depositing them in woods? That doesn't make any sense. If that's all that Dr. Mettler did with them, someone would have turned up by now," I argued.

"Maybe they died of exposure," Mulder countered.

"In the summer?"

"If they were out here for too long," he suggested.

"Exactly how far do you think we are from Madison?" I asked.

"No idea," he shook his head.

"Well, what time is it?"

"My watch is gone and so is my wallet and all of my I.D. I have my Swiss Army knife. At least he left me that."

I felt for my watch and I.D.-nothing. "Great," I sighed.

"I'm starting to feel a bit better now, Scully. How about you?" he asked softly.

"Not yet," I groaned.

"Why do I feel better and not you?" he sounded concerned.

"Your size-your body processed the drug faster," I explained.

"Right," he nodded. "Do you mind if I look around? Maybe I can figure out where we are."

"Go ahead. Talking is making my head hurt, anyway." I closed my eye again. "See if you can find some water too." My mouth was incredibly dry.

"Good idea," he agreed. "I won't be long."

The sound of leaves and twigs signaled his leaving. Soon I couldn't hear him any more. Keeping very still to keep the pain at a minimum, I tried to focus on my breathing. Anything would be better than this throbbing in my head.

I must have fallen asleep or lost consciousness because the next thing I knew, cold water was being splashed on my face. Opening my eyes revealed a very relieved-looking Mulder.

"I couldn't wake you," his voice seemed a bit shaky.

"Just the effects of whatever he gave us, Mulder, don't worry. It'll wear off soon," I tried to reassure him.

"Can you sit up so that you can have a drink?"

Glancing around, I was surprised to find myself lying next to a stream.

"I found some water," he grinned at me.

"How far did you carry me?" I asked in surprise.

"Not far, a few hundred yards, maybe," he shrugged.

"Thank you, Mulder," I smiled up at him.

"It was easier than bringing the mountain to Muhammad," he pointed out with a smile.

Mulder helped me to sit up and then, using his hands, brought me some water. It was cool and refreshing; I felt better almost immediately. Most of my symptoms could have simply been dehydration. When I'd had enough to drink Mulder took off his jacket and balled it up so that I could use it for a pillow.

"Did you find anything?" I asked after he'd eased me onto my back again.

"Nope."

"Nothing?" I asked in surprise.

He shook his head. "I even climbed the biggest tree I could find. I still couldn't see anything but trees."

"I didn't know that Wisconsin was this heavily forested." I was puzzled.

"There is something else bothering me too, Scully," Mulder said, his voice low and even.

"What?" I didn't like the sound of his voice-it scared me.

"There were no tire tracks anywhere near where we woke up and no marks indicating that we were dragged there," he informed me quietly.

"You must have missed them," I said, my tone hopeful. I knew that Mulder never missed things like that.

He shook his head and began to chew on his lip.

"Then how did we get here?" I was beginning to get scared. We had come to Wisconsin to investigate the disappearance of some homeless people and now we were lost.

"I don't have a clue," he admitted. "When I climbed that tree, I couldn't see anything that resembled a road or a telephone pole. All I saw was a wisp of smoke, maybe five miles from here."

"So he dropped us in some remote part of Wisconsin, but there are no roads..." I let my voice trail off.

"I dunno, Scully, but I think we should set up camp here for the night. In the morning, if you're up to it, we should walk towards that smoke I saw," he suggested.

Since I didn't have a better plan, or any plan for that matter, I nodded in agreement.

After Mulder brought me some more water, I felt well enough to stand up. I was a bit shaky at first, but after I walked around for a few minutes, I began to feel more like myself.

"It's going to take forever for you to get anywhere with those on," Mulder nodded towards my shoes.

"I wasn't planning on hiking when I put these on," I informed him haughtily. They were one of my favorite pairs-so what if the heels were four inches high?

"You want to have a go at starting a fire while I get some branches for a lean-to?" he asked, ignoring my comment.

"Can I borrow your knife for a minute before you go?"

Taking it out of his pocket, he tossed it at me. As groggy as I was, I still managed to catch it one-handed. Then I found some dry twigs and branches and Mulder watched intently as I carved a notch into one of them. When I was done I clicked the knife shut and tossed it back to him. He made a point of catching it with one hand. I ignored him and began to work on my fire.

"I'll be looking forward to a nice fire when I get back," he smirked.

"Okay," I answered brightly. I'd show him.

When he disappeared into the trees I gathered some dead grass and leaves. I put some of the grass into the notch that I'd made. Since the wood was so dry, it didn't take long to create enough heat to ignite the grass-maybe ten minutes. Once it was going, I slowly fed bigger and bigger fuel into it. By the time Mulder appeared, dragging several tree branches behind him, I had a nice little fire going.

"Easy when the wood's dry, huh?" he nodded towards my fire.

"Why is it that when I manage to do something, it must be easy ?" I snapped at him.

"I meant compared to that time in Florida, when everything was so wet," he explained, looking hurt by my attack.

"I'm sorry, Mulder. I don't know why I got so defensive." Tears began to well up in my eyes.

Dropping his branches, Mulder knelt down beside me. "We've been through quite a lot, Scully. You're a bit tense, no big deal."

His gentleness made me feel even worse. I felt a tear spill onto my cheek. "We'll get through this, Scully. We always do," he misinterpreted my tears.

I nodded. "I know and I'll try to help instead of bitching."

"Help? You've helped. It would've taken me a lot longer to start a fire and I was an Indian Guide," he grinned.

I knew he was trying to appease me, but it still made me feel better. "Well, let's get that lean-to built before it gets dark," I changed the subject.

"Do you think this might be some elaborate scheme set up by the Bureau to get us some team building skills?" Mulder grinned as he helped me up.

"Yeah, that must be it," I laughed.

Working together, it took no time to construct our crude shelter. As we stood back and took in our work, Mulder took a deep breath.

"Well, Scully, I'm starving. Why don't you build up the fire some more and I'll see if I can catch some fish."

"With what?" I looked at him in surprise.

"I'll carve myself a spear," he informed me.

"A spear?" I laughed, deciding not to make the obvious "Survivor" joke.

"Do you doubt me?" he feigned shock.

"Not at all," I tried to suppress a smile.

After the great white hunter left camp, I tended the fire and then made a bed of sorts in the lean-to. I was just beginning to think that Mulder might have gotten lost when I heard him approaching through the woods. While I'd been waiting for him, I'd built a spit of sorts over the fire in the hope that he would actually catch some fish. I was starving, so when he strode into view carrying three fish, I was overjoyed.

He'd already cleaned them and was pleased with my spit set-up. While he went down to the stream to wash up, I skewered one of the fish and began to rotate it slowly over the fire. When he returned, Mulder said nothing; he just watched intently as I cooked the fish. It took no time at all and when I was done, I gave the fish to him. Judging by the way he'd watched so raptly, I figured he must have been ravenous too.

"I'll wait until the next one is done, Mulder. They cook so fast," I waved him off when he offered me some of his trout.

Then, while I ate mine, he cooked the third. Again, when it was done, he offered some to me. I lied and told him that I'd had enough. I decided that he needed it more than I did, even if I was still a bit hungry.

By the time we were finished, the light was beginning to fade. At the creek we drank our fill and then washed our hands and faces. The cool water on my skin was refreshing. I realized as we walked toward the lean-to that I was feeling much better. The effect of the drug that we'd been given had dissipated.

Before we retired to the lean-to, I carefully banked the fire. I didn't want to start a forest fire, but I didn't want to start a new fire in the morning, either.

As soon as the sun went down, the temperature dropped significantly. Maybe Mulder was right; maybe the victims had died of exposure. But that still didn't explain Dr. Mettler's motives. Why would he deposit people in the wilderness alive, only to have them die later? It made no sense to me.

"Here we are, cold and lost in the forest again, Scully and still no sleeping bag," Mulder chuckled once we'd closed the make-shift door on our shelter.

"I'm thankful that neither one of us is injured, Mulder," I pointed out.

"I am too, Scully. I was really worried about you earlier," he confessed.

"I'm fine now, Mulder. Completely over it, I think. Just-" I put my hand to my mouth to stifle a yawn. "Just bone tired."

"I'm wiped, too," he yawned as well.

In the growing darkness, I could barely make out his form, but I saw him sit down on our pine-bough bed.

"More comfortable than a futon," he laughed. "See for yourself."

"Let me get my shoes and nylons off first." After toeing off my shoes, I quickly shimmied out of my nylons. "What should I do with these?"

"Your shoes?" he asked.

"No, the nylons. I'm not planning to put them back on," I clarified.

"Keep them," he said quickly. "You never know what we might be able to use them for."

"Right," I agreed, joining him on the boughs. We had no idea how long it might be until we found civilization again.

"Just like my tie," he added as I slipped my jacket off. "I'm not planning on wearing it, but it might come in useful."

As I settled onto my side, I was surprised to feel Mulder cover me with his jacket.

"Mulder, I'll be okay. Won't you need your jacket?" I protested.

"I'm hot-blooded, I'll be fine," he assured me. "Besides, I was planning to cozy up to you."

"Let's spread my jacket out over the pine needles. It won't be as good as a pillow, but at least we won't lose an eye," I suggested.

Mulder chuckled as he helped me smooth out my jacket. Soon we were settled into the pine bed again.

"Smells like you," Mulder noted.

"What?"

"Your jacket smells like you. It's nice," he explained.

"Oh-thanks." I had no idea that Mulder knew what I smelled like.

As we lay there, I realized that was he right. He was hot-blooded. Even though we weren't touching, I could feel the heat radiating off of his body.

"You *are* warm," I mumbled sleepily.

He stirred and moved closer to me; spooning up against me and draping his arm over my waist.

"Is that better?" he asked.

"Much," I sighed before I knew what I was saying.

"Mmm," was all he said, his breathing already beginning to slow.

He must have thought I was referring to his body heat and not the feeling of his well-muscled frame pressed against me. Any other time it would have kept me up all night, but I was so exhausted that I fell asleep almost instantly.

When I woke in the morning, Mulder was gone. I could hear the fire crackling outside. It reminded me of camping, which immediately made me think of what I disliked about it-peeing outside. But my bladder had no concern for my squeamishness. I could only hope that we wouldn't be camping for too long.

I was back tending the fire when Mulder reappeared-with fish; five fish.

"Five?" I chuckled.

"I was still hungry when all of the fish was gone last night and I think that you were too," he explained as he prepared one of the fish.

"I was fine," I brushed off his comment.

"Scully, I know that you let me have all of that fish even though you were still hungry. Don't deny it," he challenged me.

"I'm not denying it. I said I was fine. I didn't say I was full, but I knew that I wasn't going to starve, either. You need more calories than I do. That's all there is to it," I shrugged.

"Most people would only think of themselves, Scully," he pointed out.

"I was thinking about myself," I grinned. "If I didn't give you enough to eat, you wouldn't have had the strength to catch these fish."

This time when all of the fish was gone, I felt full and Mulder insisted that he was too. Although I'd been very hungry, I hoped that we would be able to expand our diet soon. Fish three times a day was not something that I looked forward to. I prayed that I would have a choice.

Before we began our journey, we made sure that the fire was out, dousing it with sand and what little water we could carry in our hands. It took a while, but we couldn't risk leaving live embers.

When we were finally satisfied that it was out, we started our hike towards the smoke that Mulder had seen. The ground was fairly even and firm, so it was easier going in my heels than I had anticipated. Mulder still got ahead of me, but he kept stopping and waiting for me.

Once when I'd lost him, I was surprised to hear his voice overhead.

"Hey, Scully!"

"See anything?" I asked when I spied him in a tree.

"Just that smoke-and we're getting closer. It looks like whoever it is might be camping next to this stream, too."

While I waited for him to climb down, I took the opportunity to get a drink of water.

"How close are we?" I asked when he'd reached the ground again.

"Halfway, maybe," he said apologetically.

"It's not your fault, Mulder. It's mine; damn shoes."

"Neither of us knew what we were getting into," he countered.

"I guess," I sighed. "I don't know why I wear these ridiculous shoes anyway." Well, I did know, but I wouldn't admit why to Mulder. I'm sure he would have found it quite amusing that I was trying to appear leggier.

"I like them," Mulder said, looking at my feet. "But I like those ones with the strap across the heel better."

"Yeah?" I chuckled.

He cleared his throat and fidgeted nervously.

"I think they would've been even less practical," I pointed out, grinning at him.

"Probably," he agreed, not meeting my eyes. "Ready to go?"

Not long after we were on our way again, Mulder disappeared ahead of me. I couldn't help wondering why Mulder noticed my shoes. I had no idea that he paid any attention to anything that I wore.

Soon the trees began to thin out somewhat and the stream widened into a pool. As I looked at the shimmering water, I didn't notice some bushes that were growing quite close to my chosen path until one of them scraped against my leg.

"Damn," I muttered as I bent to examine the scratches. It was then that I realized just what I'd brushed up against, and squealed with delight.

"Mulder!" I yelled as loud as I could, but he didn't respond. I ran as best I could on my heels and called him again. Then I heard him running back towards me.

"I'm okay," I called. "I found something."

He appeared from around a bend in the creek about 20 yards in front of me.

"What?" he panted. "What did you find?"

"Raspberries," I grinned and then took his hand to lead him back to the patch I'd found.

"I walked right by here and never noticed them," Mulder shook his head when I showed him the bushes.

"Scratched my leg." I pointed to my calf.

"Now aren't you glad that you're wearing a skirt," he grinned, his mouth already full of raspberries.

Although we had no idea what time it was, we decided to call our berry feast lunch and we took a breather. I made no mention of the fact that my feet were throbbing. Looking back, I realized that I should have put my nylons back on this morning because my shoes were rubbing my feet raw. I would've liked nothing better than to soak my aching feet in the cool water of the stream, but I knew I would never be able to get my shoes back on if I took them off now.

When we were under way again, I was waiting for Mulder to get ahead of me, because all of this water that I was drinking was going right through me. For some reason, though, he never got very far in front of me. If I slowed down, he would keep pace with me.

"What are you doing, Mulder?" I finally had to ask.

"What do you mean?" He was the picture of innocence.

"All morning you were way ahead of me and now, all of a sudden, you are stuck to me like glue."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" He looked puzzled.

"As a matter of fact, I am," I told him honestly.

I had to chuckle at the look of hurt and confusion on his face, which only added to his dismay.

"I was hoping for a bit of privacy," I tried to explain delicately.

He looked confused for a minute, but then his eyes widened in realization. "Sorry," he mumbled and I noticed that his ears had turned a little pink before he strode off.

It took me no time to catch up to him. Apparently he'd only walked 100 yards ahead and then stopped to wait.

"Why did you wait for me?" I asked once we were walking again.

"I realized when you called me earlier that it was probably a bad idea to get separated," he explained.

"Did I scare you," I asked in surprise.

"A bit, but that's okay. We should stay together from now on," he suggested.

"Stupid shoes," I muttered, making Mulder chuckle.

It seemed like forever until Mulder said that we should be getting close. Right about that time, I began to hear an occasional noise in the woods, like someone was following me. When I stopped to listen, I heard nothing. Mulder shrugged it off as an echo, but that didn't satisfy me. If it was an echo, why hadn't I heard it all along?

Before long, we could actually smell the smoke and some meat cooking. We also heard muted voices, but we couldn't make out what they were saying. As we rounded another bend in the stream, the trees thinned out revealing the most incredible thing I'd ever seen. It was the most stunningly realistic recreation of a Native American village I thought possible. Mulder and I stood stock still and stared.

There were several large wigwams supported by sturdy poles and covered in birch bark. Several fires were actually burning; Mulder must have seen the large one that seemed to be the center of the encampment. There were several women tending the various fires, all dressed in deer-skins. Some older women were sitting on the ground occupied with needlework while simultaneously watching the children who were running about the camp. One of these women spotted us and spoke a few sharp words that I didn't understand. All of the activity stopped, save the children dashing towards their mothers.

I was about to suggest to Mulder that we introduce ourselves and tell them that we were lost when I felt something brushing against my hair. Gasping, I turned to see what it was. I was shocked to see a young Native American man pulling his hand away.

It was hard to judge his age, but I would have guessed that he was in his early twenties. He wore nothing but a breech-cloth, not even shoes. Nothing adorned his head and he wore no jewelry. His red-brown skin highlighted his lean, muscled body. His hair and eyes gleamed black.

"Fox Mulder." Mulder held out his hand.

The young man ignored him and reached towards my hair again. I let him touch it. At first he rubbed it between his fingers, but then he suddenly gave it a sharp tug.

"Ow," I complained.

He stepped back, looking shocked until Mulder began to laugh. The young man relaxed.

"I take it he's never seen red hair before, Scully," Mulder chuckled.

"Never?" I couldn't believe it.

"I don't think he speaks English," Mulder said in a low voice. "Fox Mulder," he repeated, tapping his chest. "Dana Scully," he said pointing to me.

"Day-na," the young man repeated.

"Fox," Mulder said, indicating himself again.

"Day-na," he repeated, ignoring Mulder. He took me by the hand and led me towards the center of the village. All I could do was shrug at Mulder over my shoulder.

End chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 2

The small crowd that had assembled was whispering and staring at Mulder and me, but they fell silent and gave way as we approached the central fire. The young native motioned for me to sit down at the fire. When Mulder began to sit down beside me, he was waved off and directed to sit behind me. So I stuck out my bottom lip and patted the ground beside me.

My gesture made the women murmur and then smile knowingly. It seemed that my gesture had given them the impression that we were a couple. They wouldn't be the first to make that assumption. Dropping his shoulders in resignation, the sole male we had seen motioned for Mulder to join me.

"It looks like your hair makes you intriguing," Mulder noted in a low voice once he was beside me.

"What's going on here, Mulder?" I whispered. "Who are these people?"

At first I thought that we'd stumbled upon a group of Native Americans who had gone back to the old ways, but I now I doubted that. It was rapidly becoming apparent that there had been little or no contact between these people and the outside world. How was that possible in this day and age?

The young man startled me by suddenly speaking very sharply. His words made the women begin to scurry around. In no time, Mulder and I had each been given a bowl of some sort of stew and another of what tasted like herbal tea. We were both eating hungrily when one of the women handed both of us a piece of flatbread that I assumed was bannock. Everything was delicious and when all of my food was gone, I licked my fingers. Glancing up, I caught Mulder doing the same thing.

The women all smiled proudly, obviously happy that we'd enjoyed the fare. Then one of the younger women indicated that she wanted me to come with her. But when I attempted to get up, I winced in pain.

"What's the matter?" Mulder asked. His face, along with the faces of those gathered around, showed concern.

"It's my feet," I grimaced.

"What's wrong with them?" He furrowed his brow.

"I should've put my nylons back on. It feels like I have some pretty bad blisters," I told him as I reached to remove a shoe.

Mulder drew in a sharp breath when I eased my left shoe off.

"Jesus, Scully!"

Everyone clustered around to peer at my foot. The back of my heel was completely raw and bloody. On the side of my foot, on my first metatarsal joint, was another large open sore. In fact, my whole foot was badly swollen. Removing the other shoe, I discovered that my right foot was just as bad or maybe even slightly worse than my left foot.

Before I could stop him, the young man had grabbed my shoes and pitched them into the fire. When I looked at him in shock, he pointed to my feet and shook his head, frowning. He must have thought that my shoes were ridiculous too.

The women were all talking at once and the man bent over me like he was going to pick me up.

"Hey! I'll do that!" Mulder protested before I'd a chance to speak.

When he jumped up, the young man backed off, seeming to understand that Mulder thought that carrying me was *his* duty. Before I could explain that I could have walked easily with bare feet, Mulder had picked me up and was carrying me across the encampment. He was following the young man and most of the women were trailing after us.

Motioning for us to wait, the young man went into a large wigwam. We could hear him talking and a deeper voice answering him. He popped his head out of the door and beckoned us inside. Before my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, the deeper voice began to speak. Again I had no idea what he what he was saying, but I heard my name.

"I'm Dana," I said to the hazy form.

"Day-na," he repeated and gestured for Mulder to put me down. Then he pointed to himself and said "Omiga,".

"Omiga," I repeated pointing towards him. "Dana," I said indicating myself and then did same with Mulder.

Soon, at least we knew each other's names. Then I was able to learn that the young man's name was Nawkaw. Even though I couldn't understand anything that was being said, knowing some names made me feel better for some reason.

Omiga began to speak to me in an earnest tone of voice. Then, with his large bony hands, he picked up each foot in turn. Having adjusted to the half light, I could see the look of consternation on his face.

Nawkaw was still standing just inside the door. Turning to face him, Omiga seemed to give him some instructions.

"Mulder, Day-na," Omiga nodded towards the door.

Mulder got to his feet quickly and stooped to pick me up. I waved him off.

"I can walk, Mulder," I assured him and began to stand up.

"Day-na!" Omiga barked my name, making me freeze. "Mulder," he said, nodding towards me.

"Fine," I sighed in resignation.

Mulder chuckled as he picked me up. "Is that all I have to do to get my way-speak firmly to you?"

"Why don't you try it and find out?" I asked dryly.

"I think I'll pass. I'm rather fond of all of my parts," he laughed as he carried me outside.

While Mulder and I were talking, Nawkaw seemed to be calling out instructions. Almost immediately, one of the younger women was leading Mulder back towards the stream. Once we were there, she gestured for Mulder to set me down on a large flat rock. Then, kneeling down, she began to wash my feet in the cool water.

"I can do that," I told her, reaching out to help.

Smiling, she shook her head at me and swatted my hand away. From his perch on a rock beside me, Mulder laughed. I stuck my tongue out at him, defiantly, eliciting giggles from the young woman.

Although the cool water felt good on my feet, when it initially came into contact with each open wound, it burned and stung. My cringing was upsetting the young woman, so to distract myself I tried to learn her name.

"Wanik," she told me when she finally understood what I was asking.

It seemed to me that the stinging had just begun to wane when Wanik gestured to Mulder to pick me up again. When we got back to the fire, the good smells of the cooking had been replaced by a far more acrid smell. Omiga was crouched by the fire, stirring something in a cast-iron pot. That pot was the first vestige of civilization that I'd seen here.

From the deepness of his voice and the power that he seemed to hold, I'd expected Omiga to be a bigger man. In his youth, he must have been strong and lean, but now he was small and wizened. His face was a mass of wrinkles and his long hair was mostly grey.

As we approached the fire, Omiga indicated that he wanted Mulder to set me down by the fire. There were two large pieces of deer skin there that Omiga had me to put my feet on. Mulder plunked himself down beside me to watch. While Omiga continued to stir his foul-smelling concoction, I was drawn to the activity in the camp. Aside from the children, Omiga and Nawkaw seemed to be the only men here. Judging from the number of children and the two obviously pregnant women I saw, I assumed that there must be more men somewhere-hunting presumably.

Whatever was happening here, I was being sucked right into it. I was beginning to believe that I was in a real Native American village, not just a convincing recreation. But I knew that wasn't possible. There was no way that a culture like this could have survived unaltered while the world around them moved on; at least, not in Wisconsin. It's not big enough to allow for the kind of isolation that would have been needed to create this society.

When I glanced at Mulder, I caught him looking around with the same sense of wonder that I was feeling. It was a small comfort to think that he was as perplexed as I was. My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden buzz in the village. As I was turning to ask Mulder if he could see what was going on, a group of about 20 men began to stream into the village. Two of the younger men were carrying a deer and most of the women hurried to help them.

Initially there seemed to be a lot of excitement about the deer, until Mulder and I were spotted. Then there was a great deal of talking at once. The man who seemed to be in charge approached the fire. Speaking rapidly to Omiga, he nodded towards us. But Omiga didn't get excited; he spoke slowly and softly to the large man. Interspersed with words that I didn't understand, I heard our names a couple of times.

Leaning over to look at my feet, the man nodded, said a few words and then left. From his stance and apparent authority, I assumed him to be chief. All attention had left us and was now focussed on the deer that was being taken to the woods on the opposite side of the encampment from the stream. Mulder took advantage of the lull in activity to find out who the man had been.

"Namid," Omiga smiled at us and nodded.

"I take it Namid is the chief," Mulder said quietly.

"And he didn't look thrilled to see us," I added.

"I think Omiga put in a good word for us," he nodded towards the old man.

"I think you're right," I let out a long breath. "I had no idea what he was saying, but his tone and demeanor scared me."

"Me, too," Mulder confessed, surprising me.

I was about to ask him if he thought that everything had been smoothed over, when Omiga began to say something. As he spoke, he lifted a bag made from very thin skin out of the pot. I could tell that he was trying to explain to me what he was doing. So I shook my head and shrugged to show him that I didn't understand.

He was silent for a minute, then he smiled and pointed at the bag and then at my foot. I nodded to show him that I understood now. Then he touched the bag and drew his hand away quickly to show me that it was hot-I nodded again. When he untied the bag I could see that it was full of what looked like leaves and bark.

I drew a sharp breath when he set my heel into the steaming mixture, but I nodded for him to continue when he quickly looked up at me. He then ensured that some of the leaves were covering my other blister. When he was satisfied, he wrapped my foot in the deer skin that it had been resting on. Then he repeated the process on my right foot. When he was finished, I was surprised to find that I was clutching Mulder's hand.

"Are you okay?" He sounded worried.

"It stings, but that's okay," I assured him. "I assume this stuff has some kind of antiseptic quality."

"I'm surprised that you'd trust folk medicine, Scully."

"How can I argue with the people who discovered acetylsalicylic acid?" I grinned.

"What?" he laughed.

"Aspirin, Mulder...from willow bark," I clarified. "Besides, most medicines come from plants. Through trial and error these people have discovered what works."

"You can't not make it scientific, can you?" He rolled his eyes.

I was about to continue the debate when Wanik appeared with two bowls. Although it hadn't been that long since our last meal, I was happy to see more food. As we ate, dusk settled over the camp and quickly deepened.

Nawkaw appeared and spoke briefly to Omiga. The old healer stood up and followed him. While he was gone, a smiling Wanik came to retrieve our empty bowls. Smiling, I rubbed my stomach to let her know that I'd enjoyed it. She giggled shyly and then left.

"Now what?" Mulder wondered aloud. "Do you think that we're supposed to sleep here?"

"I dunno, maybe," I shrugged. "It would be better than most of the flea-bag motels that you pick."

"They're mostly clean," he defended himself.

"Mmm," I replied, noncommittally. I had begun to think that Omiga wasn't coming back when his wrinkled face appeared in the circle of firelight. He motioned for us to follow him, so Mulder scrambled to his feet and picked me up. We were led to a small wigwam and ushered inside. After Mulder set me down on the bed of skins and furs, Omiga knelt down beside me and then leaned in to press his lips against my forehead. Without another word, he got up and left us alone.

"Don't I get a good-night kiss?" Mulder pouted.

"He was checking to see if I was running a fever, Mulder," I chuckled.

"Likely story!"

"I'll kiss you good-night if you like," I offered.

In the darkness of our shelter I couldn't see Mulder's face, but I could make out his kneeling form, not moving.

"I'll take that as a no," I said quietly, hoping to mask my disappointment.

But then Mulder moved quickly, pressing his lips against mine in a rather long, albeit chaste kiss. As soon as he pulled back I missed the softness of his lips against mine.

"Happy now?" I asked as I lay down on my side.

"No, I'm one of those straight guys who hates kissing beautiful women," he chuckled.

"Thank you, Mulder," I whispered.

"For what?" he asked as he settled in behind me.

"For saying that I am beautiful."

"Surely you didn't need me to tell you that you are a beautiful woman, Scully." Mulder pulled a fur over me as he spoke.

"I guess it's been a long time since anyone told me that," I confessed.

"I'm sorry," he gently apologized.

"It's hardly your fault, Mulder," I laughed. I was expecting him to say something else, but he remained quiet.

"Isn't there something you want to talk about?" I asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Like what?" He sounded surprised.

"Oh, I dunno. Like where are we? How have these people stayed so isolated? Little things like that."

"I don't think that you want to know what I believe, Scully."

"Why not?"

"Because I think that we are only about five miles away from the place that we had coffee yesterday," he informed me evenly.

"How is that possible?" I couldn't figure out what Mulder was thinking.

"Think about this, Scully. If you were doing research and you wanted to use human subjects, but you knew that you would never be given permission, what would you do?"

"You think that Dr. Mettler used homeless people because no one would miss them?" I clarified.

"And no one did for a long time. It wasn't until a social worker noticed, that a police report was even filed," he added.

"And they didn't believe her until she pointed out that it was ten people, not just one or two. Their disappearances *all* couldn't be blamed on the erratic behavior of street people," I recalled from the report.

"Even then the police didn't do much," Mulder noted.

"I never did ask, Mulder. How did we get this case?"

"I asked for it. It came up when I did one of my routine searches for 'unexplained disappearances'," he explained.

"What kind of research do you think that Dr. Mettler is doing?"

"What do you think?" he asked. "What would a physics professor want with human subjects?"

"I haven't the foggiest, Mulder," I had to admit.

"I think it's something very near and dear to your heart, Scully."

"What?" I said, now totally confused. "Why won't you just tell me what you're thinking?"

"Because you won't believe me unless you figure it out for yourself," he replied.

"And you think that I will eventually?"

"You just have to believe in what you know is theoretically possible, Scully."

I was too tired to grasp what Mulder was trying to say. Sleep overtook me quickly. It had been a long, exciting but exhausting day. As the veil of sleep clouded my mind, I thought I heard Mulder's voice saying, "There is so much that I want you to believe, Scully."

The following morning, Wanik's sweet smile greeted me when I opened my eyes. She had brought our breakfast to us. I was surprised that we were still being treated like royalty. I'd thought that Namid would have put an end to that; I'd underestimated him.

Setting the bowls down, Wanik backed out of the wigwam. Mulder was still snoring softly in my ear, his arm hung loosely over my waist again.

"Mulder," I said softly, but he didn't stir. "Mulder," I repeated, a little louder.

"Mmm," he mumbled and snuggled a little closer to me. His nose was buried in my hair and his arm now hugged me tightly.

At that instant I didn't care where we were or how we got there. I would have happily stayed like that forever. But I knew that Mulder was only drawn to the warm body beside him. He didn't think about me in sexual terms. To him, we were partners and friends, nothing more. I'd decided long ago if that was all Mulder could give me, I would have to be satisfied with it. But this situation was making me realize what I was missing. I figured that it was best not to torture myself.

"Mulder!" I said a third time, loudly.

"What?" He seemed to be wide awake instantly. "Oh, sorry," he said, sitting up quickly.

"Sorry?" I was confused. "I was just trying to tell you that our breakfast is here."

After our meal, I was in a quandary. I had to pee very badly, but Omiga had wrapped my feet in such a way that it was almost impossible to walk. Without telling him why, I sent Mulder to fetch Wanik. When he brought her back, I sent him away again, looking very bewildered.

After several unsuccessful attempts, I finally got Wanik to grasp my problem. She ran and got another young woman that she introduced as Migisi. Together they helped me to hobble into the woods. When we got back, Mulder scooped me up immediately.

"What are you doing on your feet? Don't let Omiga catch you," he warned. "He's been looking for you, by the way."

"I had to pee," I whispered, which was silly, because no one could understand me anyway.

"I could've helped you, Scully" he sighed.

"I would've felt funny asking you," I admitted shyly.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable telling me anything. I thought we were beyond that, Scully." The emotion I saw in his hazel eyes shocked me; I didn't know what to say. But it didn't matter, because Mulder was setting me down in front of the fire.

"Will you be okay on your own?" he asked. "I was going to head down to the stream."

"Of course," I waved him off. I was actually relieved to have some time to myself, so to speak. Mulder and I had been in such close proximity over the last couple of days, that all of the feelings I'd been trying to suppress had come closer to the surface than they'd been in a very long time. Why did I make so much of little things? Things like what I thought I had just seen in Mulder's eyes. It couldn't mean anything; I must have been reading too much into it.

My thoughts were interrupted by Omiga saying my name. He had unwrapped my foot and wanted me to see how much better it looked. In no time, he had changed the poultice and rewrapped my bandage. When he was finished with both feet, he took his pot and ambled out of sight.

Women were beginning to gather around the fire as they had the previous day. Some of them still eyed me cautiously, but most had relaxed and seemed to go about their business unconcerned. It filled me with a sense of peacefulness to sit and watch the children play while their mothers and grandmothers were busy with their tasks. Wanik was busily sewing on a pair of moccasins. Every now and again she'd hold them up for me to see. When I smiled my approval, she would bend happily to her work again.

It seemed that the men weren't leaving camp. Instead they were repairing tools, mending traps and sharpening their knives. When I saw those knives, I realized that they were another modern implement, like Omiga's pot. They *must* have had some contact with the outside world in order to obtain them.

I was still caught up in watching all of the activity when two young teen-aged girls ran into camp giggling. They smiled at me and then looked away shyly. Then one of the girls said something to the group of women around the fire. Some of them chuckled, but they all smiled at me. I had no idea what they were finding so amusing.

About five minutes later, Mulder walked back into camp. When the women saw him, they began to murmur and smile at me again.

"I take it everyone knows," he said dejectedly, sitting down beside me.

"Everyone but me. What happened?"

"They caught me taking a bath in the stream," he groaned; his ears had flushed pink.

"Is that all?" I laughed. "Don't worry about it, Mulder. They all seem to think that I am a lucky woman."

"What?" He looked at me in obvious confusion.

"You know that they assume we're a couple, right?" I began.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Well after they saw you naked, they think that I'm a lucky woman."

"Oh." He seemed to shrink in place; his ears flushing even redder.

After the midday meal, I told Mulder that I would like to have a bath too. Together we explained it to Wanik; and he left with her to get water. When they got back, I had Mulder carry me to the wigwam and then shooed him away. With Wanik's help, I managed to have a fairly decent sponge bath. She didn't seem to think that it was at all out of the ordinary that I'd asked for her help instead of Mulder's. Even though I had to get back into the same clothes that I'd been wearing for three days, my cool bath made me feel invigorated.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Mulder and I *did* discuss the fact that, once my feet had healed, we would have to hike in the other direction to see what we could find. Mulder hoped that our new found native friends might be able to lead us to some English speaking people.

"I hope so," I sighed. "I'm getting awfully tired of charades."

After Omiga had changed the dressings on my feet again, Mulder and I retired to our wigwam.

"Do you have any further thoughts about the case?" Mulder asked once we had settled into the bed.

"Not really," I told him. "The only kind of research where you might want to use human subjects that I can think of is medical. But Dr. Mettler is a physicist."

"I think we became part of his experiment, Scully."

"Something to do with the drugs?" I tried to see if I understood what he was thinking.

"I think that the drugs only made us easier to work with." He persisted in being cryptic.

"Look, Mulder, I already told you that I don't know what you're getting at, and I'm tired of playing guessing games," I said angrily. "Unless you decide to share what you're thinking, I don't want to discuss this anymore."

Just as he was drawing a breath to respond, a noise from outside startled both of us.

"What was that?" I whispered.

"Shh," Mulder quieted me. We heard the sound again-like someone calling out in pain.

"I'm going to see what that was," Mulder announced, scrambling over me.

Within seconds I heard some murmuring voices and then Mulder skulked back into the wigwam.

"Whatever is happening, the women won't let me see," he said as he clambered back over me.

"Maybe they'll let me," I suggested.

"But you can't walk," Mulder protested.

"I can sort of hobble. I'll be fine," I assured him as I crawled outside.

The night was almost jet black; illuminated only by the cold light of the stars above me. As I got to my feet, I noticed that the temperature had dropped a couple of degrees and the wind was whispering through the trees, making the leaves rustle eerily. A small crowd of women had gathered around one of the wigwams about 30 feet from me. If I hadn't heard someone cry out in pain, I wouldn't have been at all concerned. But after everything they had done for me, I needed to see if I could help.

As I began to make my way towards the women, a ghastly wail rose up from the wigwam, sending icy fingers up and down my spine. A hush fell over the women and they all silently moved away; not one of them acknowledged my presence as they passed me.


	3. Chapter 3

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 3

Without even realizing that I had begun to move, I found myself stumbling toward the large wigwam. As I crouched to go inside, I heard a woman sobbing. A faint light was shining from the small fire that was burning in the center of the large shelter. The first thing I saw when my eyes adjusted to the light was the woman who was sobbing, her face in her hands. Then I saw an older woman cradling a newborn in her arms. I realized quickly what was wrong. The infant was not moving or making the slightest noise.

"What happened?" I asked, forgetting that they couldn't understand me.

The older women must have understood from my tone what I was asking. Using her hand, she showed me that the umbilical cord had been wrapped around the baby's neck. I moved to her side, knowing that if I acted quickly the infant might still have a chance.

When I took the tiny boy's lifeless body into my hands, I was relieved to feel that he was still warm. Although his lips, hands and feet were dark, the rest of his body was still fairly pink, so he hadn't been deprived of oxygen for too long. I began by rubbing the soles of his feet, but I got no response. Running my knuckles over his sternum, I waited briefly but saw no reaction.

When I placed his head in the palm of my hand, his little bottom didn't even reach the crook of my arm. Lifting him up, I gave him one small puff, using only the air from my cheeks. I didn't want to risk overfilling his lungs. Then, using only two fingers, I began compression at the rate of five per breath. After 20 cycles I stopped to reassess him. Checking his upper arm, my own heart skipped a beat when I felt a pulse. After drawing a shaky breath, the baby began to squall.

Both women looked up in shock; eyes wide, mouths open. Handing the boy to his mother, I encouraged her to nurse him. As soon as he latched on, he began to eat voraciously. His mother kept looking down at him and then back up at me, her face full of wonder.

As the infant boy continued to nurse, the midwife cut and tied his cord. Next I indicated to the mother that I wanted to touch her abdomen. She nodded her consent. Knowing that the baby's suckling would induce uterine contractions, I began to massage her belly to help her along. I wanted to make sure that the placenta was delivered whole, since I had no means of fighting infection.

Soon she delivered a whole, healthy-looking afterbirth. Once I'd inspected it, the midwife took it and wrapped it in a piece of deerskin and left the shelter. Her actions didn't surprise me. I knew it was common practice for Native Americans to bury the placenta.

She had no sooner left when Wanik, Migisi and three other women, whose names I didn't know, began to file into the wigwam. When Wanik spoke to the nursing mother she answered in a soft voice, occasionally nodding towards me. All of the women turned to stare at me. It hadn't occurred to me how fantastic my actions might seem to them. I had reacted instinctively. Now I was wondering if I may have scared them.

The women were still whispering, staring first at the baby and then at me, when the midwife reappeared. She shooed us out of the wigwam. Assuming that she wanted mother and child to rest, I left quickly. As I was standing up outside, I was surprised to feel a hand on my arm. I turned to find the midwife smiling at me. She picked up my hands and pressed her lips to my fingers. After gently placing my hands by my sides, she turned and went back inside.

I was slowly hobbling back to the wigwam when Mulder appeared out of the darkness and scooped me up.

"What happened?" he asked breathlessly.

As he carried me back and set me on the bed, I told him the whole story.

"I don't think they'll be afraid of you," he assured me when I told him my concerns. "But I bet you garnered even more respect than you already had. Now they probably think that you're some kind of goddess."

"I don't know about that," I snorted. "Just as long as they aren't scared of me," I added through a huge yawn.

"Hey, don't fall asleep before I get my good-night kiss, Scully. I've never been kissed by a goddess."

"I kissed you last night," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but I didn't know that you were a goddess then, so it doesn't count," he argued.

"I see," I chuckled. "So where are your lips? It's too dark to see in here."

"Right here." His low voice was very close to me and in the next instant his lips were on mine.

This kiss was longer than the one we'd shared the previous night. Instead of just pressing his lips against mine, he seemed to be caressing my lips with his. My pulse quickened and I felt a rush of heat between my legs. Catching my tongue just before it darted out to taste more of him, I had to press it against the roof of my mouth to keep it under control. It seemed like a heavenly eternity before he finally pulled back.

"I'm very proud of what you did tonight," he whispered.

Proud? He was proud of me? If that was the way he kissed when he was proud, he'd turn me into a quivering mass of goo if he ever kissed me because he was in love with me. Even though I was exhausted, the relentless throbbing that Mulder had created between my thighs kept me awake for what seemed like hours.

When I woke the following morning, I was surprised to find myself draped over a soundly sleeping Mulder, so I gently eased myself off of him and sat up. Breakfast had again been brought to our wigwam. Picking up one of the bowls, I discovered that it was cold. Mulder and I must have been dead to the world-we were both usually light sleepers.

I was so hungry that I ate the gruel anyway. Even cold it had a rich, nutty flavor. I was almost half done when Mulder opened his eyes.

"Morning," I smiled.

As he stretched and yawned he smiled back at me. "I don't know what it is, but I can't remember the last time I slept so well."

"It's the fresh air," I told him, handing him his breakfast.

"Must be," he agreed with a grin.

When we'd finished, I crawled outside and prepared to hobble into the woods. Before I'd gone two steps Mulder swept me into his arms.

"Oh, no you don't," he laughed.

"I can't wait until my feet have healed," I sighed.

Mulder just chuckled and headed into the forest. When I was done I had him take me to the stream. On the way he pointed out a blood stain on my already dingy white blouse.

"Maybe Wanik could help me rinse my things out in the stream," I wondered aloud.

"I could do it," Mulder offered.

"You'd want to rinse out my underwear?" I asked in disbelief. "Don't answer that!" I stopped him when I spotted the devilish gleam in his eyes. "Just get Wanik, please."

"You're no fun," he muttered as he set me down by the stream.

He was back with Wanik in no time. When he disappeared again I showed her what I wanted to do. She cheerfully helped me rinse out everything but my skirt, which I was afraid would shrink.

While the rest of my things were drying on a rock, she helped me have a quasi-sponge bath. It was difficult with my feet swaddled the way they were, but we did the best we could.

As I was testing my panties to see if they were dry yet, Wanik's eyes suddenly lit up. After saying something, she dashed off, leaving me sitting on a rock-naked. I was petrified that someone was going to come along and find me, but she was back quickly, carrying a deerskin dress over her arm. I couldn't believe how incredibly soft it was. I looked up at her, needing to be sure that she really wanted me to have it. She must have read the question on my face because she nodded vigorously.

So I slipped the dress over my head and, since I was sitting down, Wanik helped me pull it over my hips. She then disappeared again after saying something else, and Mulder appeared a short time later. He grinned broadly when he saw me.

"I always knew that you'd look good in leather," he chuckled.

"Shut up, Mulder," I tried to hide my smile.

"Omiga's been looking for you again," he informed me after we'd gathered up my clothes and were heading back to camp.

Nodding, I wondered how much longer the old healer wanted to keep my feet wrapped like this. I thought it was about time that they got some fresh air.

After Mulder set me down, he took my clothes back to the wigwam. Omiga quickly unwrapped my feet, but instead of wrapping them back up again it seemed like he wanted to talk about something else. Smiling as he spoke, he made a cradling motion with his arms, making it clear to me that he wanted to talk about the baby. As he continued to speak, I heard him say the chief's name. In the midst of our discussion Mulder returned and sat down beside me.

"It was Namid's baby?" I asked, making the same cradling motion.

Omiga shook his head quickly and then pursed his lips. Suddenly he grabbed a twig and began to draw in the hard-packed earth that surrounded the fire. First he scratched out a stick figure, then pointing at it said "Namid,". I nodded in understanding. Next to the picture of Namid he drew another, slightly smaller, stick figure and called it Apram. Pointing at Apram he cradled his arms and then pointed at Namid.

"Oh," I said quickly. "Apram is Namid's baby." I used the cradling motion again. "But he is a grown man," I said raising my hand. Mulder was nodding as I spoke.

Omiga gave me a semi-toothless grin, drew a tiny figure and then pointed at Apram's picture.

"It was Apram's baby," I finally understood.

Omiga smiled at his success.

"Wow, Scully, you saved the chief's grandson."

"I had no idea-not that it mattered," I added quickly.

When I turned back to Omiga, he had a quizzical look on his face. He looked from me to Mulder and then back again. He made the cradling motion again and then looked at us questioningly.

Shaking my head quickly, I looked at the ground. How could I explain to him that even if Mulder and I were a couple, all of my ova had been stolen and I was barren? I was surprised to feel a finger under my chin, lifting it up. Omiga was smiling at me sympathetically as I fought to blink back my tears. He looked pensive for a minute, then pointed at my belly and said something. Glancing quickly at Mulder, I found that his eyes were shining as well. It broke my heart that Mulder felt responsible for what has happened.

No matter how many times I tried to convince him that he was not culpable for anything that had happened to me while we'd been partnered, I could never manage to change his mind. Trying to put on a brave face, I gave his hand a squeeze.

"God, Scully," he breathed, his voice cracking as he spoke. Then in one rapid movement he pulled me onto his lap and buried his head in my shoulder.

"Shh," I tried to soothe him. "It's okay. I'm all right, really."

"It's not okay, Scully, and you aren't all right. I can never forget that." His voice was clouded with emotion.

"I'll never forget either, Mulder. But I have to move on. I can't wallow in self-pity," I told him, stroking his hair as I spoke.

"I know, I know, but when it comes up fresh like this it makes me so angry," he sighed. "And so sad," he added quietly.

Biting my lip to keep from blurting out how much I loved him, I held him tightly. As I took long, shaky breaths, I quietly reveled in how securely Mulder was holding me.

When I opened my eyes I was surprised to find that Omiga had gone. Scanning the village, I spied him halfway across the encampment.

"Omiga," I called to him. "What about my feet?" I asked, pointing at them.

Shaking his head, he made a wavy, fluttering motion with his hands.

"What the hell does that mean?" Mulder laughed.

"If I'm not mistaken, I think he wants my feet to get some air," I told him with a smile.

Since the men had left before Mulder and I were even awake, the village was fairly quiet. After the second meal of the day Wanik indicated that she wanted me to come with her. Once I'd made sure that Mulder knew where I was going, I headed off with her and three other women.

In my bare feet I walked with them through the woods to the exact berry patch that I'd stumbled upon two days earlier. It took a few good hours of picking, but we managed to fill all of the baskets we'd brought.

When we got back to camp, Mulder was nowhere to be seen. Asking around, Wanik found out that he'd gone somewhere with Omiga. Dusk was beginning to settle when they finally got back. But I hadn't been worried-I knew that if he was with Omiga, he was safe.

"Where'd you go?" I asked when he trudged over to me.

"We must have done a good ten miles tramping out there. He had me picking berries, digging up roots, scraping bark. He even had me scale a tree, because apparently the leaves near the ground weren't good enough," he explained, shaking his head. "I must reek, Scully. I'm going to take a quick dip."

"See you in a few then," I laughed and settled myself by the fire to wait.

Mulder had no sooner disappeared from view when Wanik showed up with two bowls. Stopping short, she looked around like she'd lost something. I had to chuckle at the look on her face.

"He went to take a bath," I nodded towards the stream, making a washing motion on my arm.

Sighing, she set the bowls down beside me.

"He won't be long," I told her, hoping she would glean something from my tone.

As I was looking up at her, some idea seemed to strike her and she hurried away. A few minutes later she reappeared, grinning from ear to ear.

"What?" I tried to ask the question with my face too.

She took both of her hands and held them just above her thighs and gasped.

"What!" I repeated.

"Mulder," she laughed and shook her head.

She must have gone to the stream to get Mulder for supper and was obviously very amused by modesty. I was prepared to ask him when he got back, but when he strode back into camp, any questions that had been in my mind simply vanished.

My breath caught in my throat and I had to remind myself to inhale. He was wearing a pair of deerskin breeches. Since he was a couple of inches taller than anyone here, they were a bit short, but I hardly noticed. I couldn't stop looking at where they ended on his belly-right below his navel. The effect only accentuated his abdominal muscles. I think my mouth might have been hanging open.

"What should I do with this stuff?" He held out a ball of damp clothes. "I rinsed them out in the stream."

"Spread them out in the wigwam-they might dry by morning," I suggested and then turned and watched as he walked away. My eyes were drawn to the way the leather highlighted every muscle in his ass.

"Nice pants," I smiled when he got back.

"Wanik gave them to me," he explained, joining me on the ground. "I know. She thinks it's pretty funny that you're so modest," I laughed.

Mulder just grumped and began to eat his supper. Wanik appeared out of nowhere as soon as we'd finished and beckoned us to follow her. She led us to the largest wigwam in the village and motioned for us to go inside.

A fire was burning inside and circled around it were many of the older men of the tribe. I was disappointed that Omiga wasn't among them. Most of the men seemed to be dressed up, wearing ornate necklaces and clothes which were more heavily decorated than the plain attire they wore hunting. The most shocking sight was Namid, who had the pelt of a fox, head and all, draped over *his* head. The chief motioned for Mulder and me to sit down in the open space opposite him.

"I hope that's not symbolic," Mulder nodded towards the chief's headdress.

Namid looked at us in surprise when I chuckled.

"It's the fox," I said quickly, pointing at the fur, hoping I hadn't offended him.

"Mesquakie," he rumbled.

"Fox Mulder," Mulder pointed to himself. "Mesquakie-Fox," he said, pointing at the chief's head and at himself.

A buzz started around the circle.

"Mesquakie," the chief repeated, motioning to everyone present.

"These are the Fox Indians," Mulder almost whispered.

"You've heard of them before?" I was surprised.

"I learned about them in school, along with the Sauk. They all but disappeared in the French and Indian Wars. As a kid, I thought it was cool to have the same name as an Indian tribe."

"The French and Indian Wars?" I said in shock. "That was the early 1700's, Mulder."

"I know," he said solemnly.

When we finished whispering, Namid began to speak as if he was telling a story, but I wasn't paying attention. I couldn't stop thinking about what Mulder had said. At least now I knew what he thought had happened. He thought that Dr. Mettler had been working on a time machine. I knew it was theoretically possible, but surely there had to be a more plausible explanation.

I was drawn back to Namid's story when I heard my name and Apram's. I began to realize that he was recounting the events of the previous night. After he had spoken for a long time, he made a circling motion with his arms and said the name of the tribe. Several of the men straightened up in shock and one even spoke up. Namid answered him calmly. Then another man spoke and another, and soon the room was buzzing again. Finally Namid slapped his hand on his thigh and bellowed. The questioning men shrank back and fell silent. I stole a worried look at Mulder.

"I think he just said, 'That was my grandson, God damn it, and what I say goes.'," Mulder leaned over to whisper.

"But what is he saying?" I whispered back.

"I'm not sure, but I think that we have been adopted by the tribe," he told me, and then chuckled at what must have been a shocked look on my face.

While we'd been speaking with low voices, a bowl had started to make its way around the circle, each person taking a sip before they passed it on. When it was Mulder's turn and he took a sip, his eyes grew wide.

"Smooth," he choked when he was done.

All of the men looked at me expectantly as Mulder passed the bowl to me. Lifting the bowl slowly to my lips, I prepared myself for something horrible. At first the warm liquid seemed to have no taste, but as it slid down my throat it began to burn. I breathed in deeply through my nose to keep from sputtering. My eyes had begun to tear up, but I said nothing as I passed the bowl on.

Mulder was looking at me sideways, grinning. I wanted to tell him to shut up, but I was afraid that I would start coughing if I opened my mouth. When the bowl reached Namid, he drank what was left and then began to speak again. It seemed like a long time before he finished and the men began to leave the wigwam.

"Thank you, Namid," I smiled at him as I got up to leave.

He nodded his head once, solemnly. Once we were outside and heading back to our wigwam, Mulder leaned over to whisper in my ear again. "He reminded me a lot of Skinner, but with hair."

"Me, too." I couldn't help giggling.

"Day-na!" I stopped short when I heard my name.

Omiga was hurrying towards us with a small bowl in his hands. He held it out for me and when I took it, he pushed it up towards my mouth. I was dreading that it was going to be more of that burning liquid from the ceremony, but when it got close to my nose I could tell that it was different-worse, in fact. I pulled back, wrinkling my nose.

"Day-na!" Omiga chuckled, and pushed the bowl back towards me.

The old man had done so much for Mulder and me that I couldn't say no to him. So, taking a deep breath, I swallowed the liquid in the bowl. It was dreadfully bitter, but I managed to get it down without gagging. Omiga took his bowl back, looking pleased with himself.

"Mulder," he said pointing to himself. "Day-na," he said, pointing towards the wigwam.

"I think I've been excused," I shrugged.

"Guess so," Mulder seemed equally perplexed.

As I walked towards the wigwam, I could hear Omiga begin to speak to Mulder, but as soon as I went inside, I could hear them no longer. I decided that my dress would be too warm to sleep in, so I swiftly slipped it off and put my bra and panties back on. I hurried to get under the covers so that Mulder wouldn't catch me, but I had no reason to worry. By the time he joined me I was almost asleep.

"Sorry it took so long," he apologized immediately. "It took me a while to figure out what Omiga was trying to say."

"And...?" I asked drowsily.

"If you don't mind, there's something else that I'd like to talk about first," he asked quietly.

"That's okay," I told him, assuming that he wanted to talk about his time travel theory.

"Could I have my good-night kiss first?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Why?" I asked in confusion.

"Just in case you don't want to kiss me when I'm done," he explained.

"Why wouldn't I want to kiss you?" I was bewildered.

"Please, Scully," he almost begged.

"Okay, but I still don't understand," I consented.

The kiss he gave me was almost identical to our kiss the night before, except that I felt his hand slide into my hair. Again I had to consciously keep my tongue pressed against the roof of my mouth. When he finally pulled back, I was surprised to find my hands in his hair. After I'd pulled them back, Mulder slipped under the covers with me. He was lying so close to me that I could feel the heat radiating off of his body.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked quietly.

"Well, it's something that I've tried to talk to you about before, unsuccessfully," he explained.

"Go on," I prompted, having no clue about what he was getting at.

I was startled to see a shadow pass across my face, and shocked to feel his hand stroking my hair. This action had caused him to lean a little closer to me and I was sure that I could feel his erect cock grazing my thigh.

"The problem is that you never seem to believe me when I tell you things, Scully," he began. "Since you always want proof, would it be okay if I showed you?"

"Okay," I agreed hesitantly, still not sure what he was talking about.

"May I kiss you again?" His voice was unsure.

"Yes," I whispered.

This time, as his lips were caressing mine, I felt his tongue run softly along my upper lip. Groaning at the sensation, I opened my mouth to him. Heat flooded through me, my arms and legs feeling like they were alight. At the first sign of my approval, he deepened the kiss, crushing my mouth with his. My tongue was in his mouth, dancing over his tongue, sliding along his teeth.

I groaned again when his hand closed over my breast. We parted, panting, meeting again after we'd gasped for breath. My hands were skimming over his back. My mind swirled as my hands came to rest on the soft leather covering his ass. I chuckled into his mouth as I squeezed and caressed his muscles and was thrilled to feel his arousal grow even harder.

When I felt Mulder's hand easing under my back, I arched up to give him more room. With one flick, he'd unfastened the two hooks holding my bra closed. When he slipped it off, I delighted at the skin to skin contact.

When his hot hand covered my breast, and my nipple hardened in response, Mulder groaned. Parting my legs, I tugged at him to let him know that I wanted him to move. He was between my thighs in an instant; his hardness pressing against where I wanted it most. As our hands roamed, we continued to kiss deeply, our tongues exploring as our hands were.

Mulder gently rotated his hips against me and I lifted my hips to meet him.

"God, Scully, I love you," Mulder whispered, finally breaking our kiss.

"And I love you, Mulder. I'm sorry I didn't believe you before," I breathed, pulling him back into a kiss.

"Scully," Mulder said breathlessly, pulling out of our kiss again. "We need to talk about what Omiga said."

"Now?" I whimpered.

"Sorry," he said softly, "But I think we should."

End chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 4

I couldn't begin to fathom what Mulder might think was important enough to interrupt our love-making at this point. He never ceased to amaze me. Just when I thought I had him pegged, he would do something like this, making me stop and re-evaluate everything that I thought made him who he was.

"Well, what is it? What did he want?" I asked breathlessly.

"Before I tell you I want to be sure that you understand that what he said in no way influenced what is happening between us, Scully."

"What on earth did you two talk about?" He had piqued my curiosity.

"Well, it might have given me some extra courage," he continued.

"Mulder!" I protested impatiently.

"It took me a long time to figure it out, Scully, but it seems like that drink that he gave you can cure infertility."

"Mulder," I said gently. "Nothing can cure my kind of infertility. I can't spontaneously generate new ova. Maybe if it had been some other kind of problem..."

"I know, Scully," he answered softly. "But I had to tell you. Omiga gave me strict instructions to come in here and boink your brains out."

"I would've liked to have seen that," I giggled. The mental image of *that* game of charades already forming in my mind.

"It was a little embarrassing when I finally figured out what he was saying," Mulder chuckled as he began to nuzzle my neck, his few days' growth of beard tickling me.

"Bless his heart," I sighed. "With everything that he's done for us, he still wanted to give us more."

"I just thought you should know in case he starts asking questions tomorrow," Mulder said, lifting his lips from my neck.

"You could've told me later," I pointed out.

"I was worried that I might get distracted and forget," he admitted.

"So you're free to be distracted now?" I began to squeeze his ass again.

"Oh yeah," he breathed before his mouth covered mine again.

As his soft lips caressed mine, my hands found their way to the leather laces on the sides of his breeches. While I worked away at them, Mulder was busily working at removing my panties. Soon, but not soon enough, there were no more barriers between us.

Mulder's penis was pressed against my opening, but he wasn't moving. Through the darkness I could hear his labored breathing.

"Is something wrong?" My voice was barely a whisper.

"Wrong? God, no! Everything is so right." His voice was low and gravelly. "I'm trying to remember every nuance, Scully."

"I know - I've wanted this for so long, Mulder. Now I want to know what it feels like to have you inside of me, instead of only dreaming about it," I confessed.

Groaning in response, Mulder finally began to ease into me. The sensation was exquisite; being slowly stretched and filled by him.

"Oh, Mulder," I sighed.

"Okay?" The concern in his voice touched me.

"Yes," I breathed. "Better than okay - fantastic."

"Mmmnn." The sound came from deep within his throat.

Once he was completely inside of me taking slow, gentle strokes, his lips found their way back to mine. We kissed each other greedily, as if we might be able to make up for lost time. My hands were in his hair, keeping him close to me; trying to get him closer. My legs were wrapped around his thighs, but we were moving independently, yet meeting with every stroke.

My thoughts were swirling. I, too, was having trouble believing that this was truly happening, but it was. This was Mulder making love to me. I loved the feel of him, the smell of him, and the taste of him. Every time that I realized anew that it was really him, another jolt of pleasure would surge through me.

"Promise me something, Mulder," I asked breathlessly, after freeing my lips.

"Anything, Scully," he panted.

"Promise me that we can do this in the morning. I want to be able to see you love me."

"God, Scully," he breathed and began to thrust harder.

"Does that mean you promise?" The sultry sound of my voice surprised me.

"Yes, I promise." His voice had taken on an earthy quality of its own.

Without breaking his rhythm, Mulder adjusted our position by moving forward slightly. It had an effect instantaneously. Now every time our bodies met, my clitoris grazed against him. Gasping at the sensation, I lifted my hips and moved against him, prolonging the contact. Mulder must have realized what I was doing, because he slowed his pace slightly and exaggerated the rotation of his hips on every stroke.

With each revolution, I could feel myself getting closer to my peak. My hands moved from his hair to his shoulders, and I clawed at him in my desperation for release. Our lips had parted, our need for oxygen too great, but his face was only inches from mine; his breath mingling with mine.

It seemed like Mulder had slowed his pace further, creating even more friction between our bodies. I was torn; wanting him to go faster, anticipating my climax, but also wanting to enjoy the sweet agony of the journey for as long I could.

Above me, I could feel Mulder's body begin to shake. Knowing that he must be close too, I clenched my muscles around him. As he called my name, our bodies met again, but this time I held him close to me longer. The increased contact was enough to send me over the edge. My body quaked and throbbed against him and he pulsed inside of me.

Every time I thought that it had finally subsided, my body would shudder again - it seemed endless, beautifully endless. Once he had stopped shaking, Mulder began to kiss me softly - my lips, my nose, my chin, chuckling each time my body shook beneath him.

"You like that?" My voice was still smoky.

"Mmm." He pressed his lips against the tender skin below my ear. "I'm particularly fond of how it feels inside of you."

It hadn't occurred to me that, with every aftershock, my muscles must be rippling around him. The thought of our bodies still being joined began to arouse me again, but the narcotic effect of my orgasm was more powerful and I felt myself sinking towards sleep.

"Sleepy," I mumbled to Mulder, running my finger along his bottom lip.

"Me, too," he told me, rolling to his back and taking me with him.

"I thought you'd want to spoon," I said through a yawn as I snuggled up against him.

"Well, I liked the way it felt this morning when I woke up and you were sleeping on top of me. But I couldn't really enjoy it the way I wanted to." I could hear the grin in his voice.

"I thought you were sleeping." My face was flushing even though I had no reason to be embarrassed now.

"It felt so right, so perfect to wake up that way, that I drifted back to sleep," he explained, giving my ass a gentle squeeze.

"It does feel right," I agreed drowsily, snuggling up to him again, as if the action could get me any closer than I already was.

Mulder's contented sigh was the last thing I remember hearing before sleep overtook me.

Late the following morning, I woke spooned up to him. As I let myself enjoy the way he was holding me, I recalled how, at the first light of dawn, I had woken him to make love again. As much as I enjoyed how he felt and tasted and smelled, seeing the desire in his eyes and the ecstasy on his face as we moved together gave me more pleasure than everything else combined.

My eyes had drifted shut as I let a mental image of Mulder at my breast float through my mind, when a rustling noise near by startled me. Opening my eyes, I caught Wanik trying to leave quietly after bringing our breakfast.

"Wanik," I said softly, making her look up in surprise.

Her expression turned apologetic at once.

"It's okay." I used reassuring tones. "Thank you," I smiled.

Smiling shyly, she murmured something before backing out of the wigwam. Turning in Mulder's arms, I lay my head on his shoulder. While he continued to sleep, I began to tickle his chest.

"Breakfast is here," I smiled when he eventually opened his eyes. "Why don't we eat it while it's warm?"

We were delighted to find that the raspberries that I'd helped to pick yesterday had been added to the porridge. After all of our recent activity, we were both hungry. When we'd finished, Mulder lay back down and pulled me with him. At first I thought that he wanted to make love again, but he seemed to be content just holding me. I, too, was perfectly happy to simply lie in his arms.

"So?" I said finally.

"Mmm?" He began to caress my hair.

"You think we're in the past?" It might not be the best time to have this discussion, but I didn't think there would ever be a good time.

"Yup." He was running his fingers slowly down my neck.

"Maybe it's just some kind of holographic projection," I suggested.

"Holograms can't touch you, Scully," he pointed out.

He was right and I didn't believe what I was saying anyway. I was just trying to play the devil's advocate.

"Well, there *is* still plenty of wilderness in Canada. Maybe Dr. Mettler drove us there." I tried another angle.

"I thought of that, too, but there weren't any tire tracks, Scully. How would he have gotten us there? And how would he have made it past the border check?" he countered. "I also considered a biosphere experiment, thinking that it might not be as big as it looked - the vast distances being a holographic illusion. But then we stumbled into this village and that theory got blown out of the water."

"I still need something more to go on, Mulder. I can see why you believe that, but I need proof."

"You can't just believe me, Scully," he sighed. "What? You thought that all of a sudden I would be a completely different person; believing everything you say, no questions asked?" As I spoke, his hand slipped down my back, and he began to gently caress my ass.

"Yeah, I thought you'd say something like 'How could I doubt a gorgeous hunk of man like you?'," he chuckled, giving my ass a firmer squeeze.

"Well, I guess you didn't successfully boink my brains out then, Mulder," I laughed. "Because I still have enough to form opinions of my own."

"Maybe I'm not done yet." His rich, dark voice sent chills through me. Then he startled me by quickly pulling me on top of him.

"Maybe you'll never be able to," I murmured as I began to place feathery kisses on his chest.

"Then I'll die trying," he breathed, sliding me up his body. "I'll gladly die trying," he whispered again before our lips met.

As my tongue delved into his mouth, I felt his cock grow hard beneath me. I was about to raise my hips, so that I could lower myself onto him when the sound of someone clearing their throat made me freeze. Mulder and I both turned in the direction of the sound to find Omiga crouched outside of the entrance to our wigwam, staring at the ground. Slipping off of Mulder toward the back of the shelter, I quickly covered myself.

Muttering apologetically, Omiga held a bowl out to Mulder.

"Day-na," he nodded towards me.

"Not more," I whined, vividly recalling the bitterness of last night's concoction.

"Day-na," Omiga chastised, apparently recognizing the tone of my voice.

"Fine," I sighed, taking the bowl from Mulder. I was pleasantly surprised, though, when I brought the bowl to my lips. This mixture had a fragrant, almost flowery smell and a faintly sweet taste. Licking my lips when I was finished, I had Mulder pass the bowl back to Omiga.

"Do you think that was supposed to be another fertility potion?" I asked Mulder once the healer had shuffled away.

"Could be, or maybe a maternity vitamin," he smiled softly at me.

"Please don't do this to yourself, Mulder," I implored him. "If Native Americans had found a way to regrow ova, don't you think it would be all over the news?" I pulled him into a hug.

"I just want this so much for you, Scully - for us."

"I want it too, Mulder. And there are ways for us to have a baby that don't involve magic potions," I assured him.

"Like what?" he mumbled into my hair.

"Adoption?" I suggested. "Or an ova donor, they do exist. We could use your sperm and I can still carry a child."

"You'd be willing to do that?" he asked softly.

"As long as we are both happy with the idea, I would. That's as close as I'll ever come to having our child, Mulder."

Knowing now that Mulder loved me, I looked back at his reaction to my infertility in a new light. I'd thought that he'd grieved with me as a friend, not as the father of the children I could no longer have. Knowing that he wanted our child as much as I did, made the ache in my heart even more keen. It was a long time before Mulder relaxed his hold on me.

As much as Mulder and I wanted to, we decided that we wouldn't be given enough privacy to stay inside and make love all day. So we reluctantly dressed and emerged to face the day.

Bathing in the stream together, we discussed what we should do now that my feet were better. For once we agreed on something; we needed to find some English-speaking people. Our reasons differed, but Mulder and I had often proved that when we worked together towards a common goal we were practically unstoppable.

"How are we going to explain that we have to go?" We were dressing beside the stream.

"I think using pictures, we should be able to get our point across. I'm more worried about how this is all going to go over," he admitted.

"What do you mean?" I didn't understand his concern.

"They've taken us in, fed us, clothed us, healed us and I'm fairly certain adopted us and now we are going to ask them to take us somewhere else. What if they think we weren't happy here?"

"We'll have to show them that we are happy here," I said simply. "Then try to explain that we need to leave, but we don't want to."

"That is a subtle difference to express playing pictionary and charades, Scully," Mulder said, taking my hand as we headed back to camp.

For the rest of the day, my heart was heavy as I thought about what Mulder had said. How were we going to explain the difference between want and need? All afternoon I helped the women in any capacity they would allow. Mulder fetched and carried for them, played with the kids and flirted with the grandmothers. We did everything that we could think of to show everyone how happy we were; complimenting the food, oohing and awing over the arts and crafts and admiring the skins that were being tanned.

Before long I could tell that almost everybody was slightly bemused by our behavior. Every chance we got, Mulder and I tried to think of some way to explain ourselves, but anything we thought of seemed far too complicated. My mind was racing trying to come up with an easy way to explain the difference between want and need, when the answer finally became clear.

"I'll teach them English."

"What?" Mulder looked up from playing cat's cradle with a young boy.

"And I'll start with two words, want and need," I heaved a sigh of relief.

"You think you can?" Mulder sounded doubtful.

"We have to try something," I shrugged, intent on figuring something out to explain our actions.

In the late afternoon before it was time for the evening meal, I gathered as many adults and teenagers as were willing. They all watched me expectantly as I picked up a twig and began to draw in the packed earth. Mulder sat off to the side playing cat's cradle by himself and watched.

To my right I wrote the word 'WANT' in large block letters and circled it. Then a few feet away to my left, I did the same with 'NEED'. Everyone peered curiously at the marks that I'd made.

"Need." I pointed to the word, and then I repeated it. Looking at Wanik, I pointed to the word again. Her brow furrowed immediately.

"Need," I said again. When I looked to Wanik a second time and pointed to the circle on the left, she repeated the word slowly.

Smiling, I nodded vigorously and repeated the word again. Going around the circle, I got everyone to say it. They all seemed pleased that they could please me so easily. When I moved on to 'want' they understood immediately and repeated the word right away.

"Now you just have to explain what they mean," Mulder said from the sidelines.

"Oh, ye of little faith," I chided him.

Seeing a pot of venison and wild rice simmering on the fire, I took a bowl, filled it, and placed it in the need circle.

"Need," I said firmly.

Walking over to Mulder, I snatched his string away, making several of the women guffaw.

"Want," I told them as I placed it in the appropriate circle. Turning to Mulder again, I asked him to run and get a deerskin from our wigwam. When he handed it to me, I placed it in the need circle. Removing my gold cross, I placed it with Mulder's string.

I had one more idea I was going to try before I tested them to see if they were grasping what I was saying. Dancing around, I began to squirm like a child who had to pee. Mulder began to laugh and everyone joined him.

"Need," I said loudly to get their attention.

Crooking my finger at Mulder, I got him to stand beside me. Then standing on my tiptoes, I surprised him with a passionate kiss. When I pulled away, Mulder looked a little dazed, making the women giggle.

"Want," I smiled at them.

With everyone watching, I ran to the stream and filled another bowl with water, held it between the circles and then looked at them questioningly.

"Need," they all said enthusiastically. I smiled smugly at Mulder. Spotting an elaborate design on Migisi's moccasin, I motioned for her to give it to me and then asked everyone where it should go.

"Need," some of them said decisively, dashing my hopes. I couldn't bring myself to turn and see the 'I told you so look' on Mulder's face. As I was wracking my brain to come up with something else, I was surprised to hear Wanik's voice.

Shaking her head, she took Migisi's moccasin and put it in the want circle. Then she took her own plain moccasin and put it with the needs.

A confused murmur ran through the on-lookers. So she picked up Migisi's moccasin and pointed to the design. "Want," she said clearly. In her own tongue she said something as she pointed to her plain one. "Need," she said proudly, grinning at me.

"Yes," I clapped my hands as everyone began to nod in understanding.

"Good work, Scully," Mulder smiled, sliding his arm around my waist. "Now comes the hard part."

Walking over to the stream, we sat down and I dangled my feet in the cool water. My head was pounding - it had been a long time since I taught anything, and I'd never found any class at Quantico that challenging. I stretched my neck from side to side trying to ease out the kinks.

"It will make things easier, I'm sure," Mulder reassured me as he scooted behind me and began to rub my shoulders.

"But I don't think any of us will be any happier about it," I sighed, leaning back against his hands. "At least now they'll understand that we don't want to go."

Mulder was silent for a minute as he continued to work on my tense muscles. "I was wondering, Scully," he said finally. "What will it take to convince you?"

"I'm not sure, Mulder. How far in the past do you think we are?" I avoided answering his question.

"After the French and Indian Wars there weren't supposed to be any Fox Indians left in Wisconsin, so that would put us around the 1750s or '60's. If that's the case, we'll have a hard time finding any English-speaking people. There weren't any white settlers here until the 1830's, if memory serves. If we're pressed I might be able to speak passable French."

"Then what? What if there aren't any settlers around here?" If Mulder was right, and we were in the past, this could be the 1600s. French missionaries had been in this area that early. Their influence could explain the presence of European tools in the village.

"So you believe that we're in the past?" Mulder whispered in my ear.

"I don't know what to believe," I groaned. "My head hurts too much to think about it."

"Well, we'll find out shortly." He began to massage my temples.

After we'd eaten dinner, Mulder gathered everyone around again. The sun was setting and dusk was filling the camp, so we stood beside the fire for the added light. He began by drawing a little village by a stream. Pointing at the encampment first, he then pointed to his picture. Everyone nodded in understanding. Then he lengthened his stream and pointed to the end away from the village. One of the men took the stick from Mulder and using his foot erased part of the stream. Then he showed the little stream flowing into a much bigger one that he'd represented with two lines. Mulder then lengthened those lines and tapped his stick at the end again. Taking the stick back, the same man then drew two circles - lakes.

"That's Madison, Scully," Mulder nodded towards the picture. Taking the stick again, he crouched down and drew some buildings between the two lakes and then looked up at the man questioningly. He nodded immediately.

Mulder stood up and put his arm around me. "Dana, Mulder, need," he said emphatically, pointing towards his representation of Madison.

There was some quiet murmuring and then my heart sank as silence fell over the suddenly somber people around us.

End chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Old Growth Forest

chapter 5

In the first wave of consciousness that disrupted my sleep, I thought for an instant that I was at home in my bed. But then I felt Mulder's arm wrapped possessively around my waist and smelled the leathery scent of the robe that was covering us. It would have been an extremely pleasant way to wake up, if it hadn't been for the memory of telling our new friends that we had to leave.

A small part of me wished that we didn't have to go; the setting was idyllic, the people so generous and kind. But how could I, in good conscience, stay when I wasn't positive what had happened to us? Mulder, of course, believed that we'd gone back in time, but it was only a hunch. I needed substantially more than Mulder's best guess to go on.

So we were going to hike to what we hoped was Madison. Even though I knew it was the right thing to do, I was still a little depressed that we would have to leave this village and all of the wonderful people we'd met.

"I'm not happy about it either," Mulder echoed my thoughts.

"How'd you...?" I began.

"You sighed." His voice was slightly muffled because he had burrowed his nose into my hair.

"But you still think we have to go?" I turned in his arms as I spoke.

"What if I'm wrong? It *has* happened before, once or twice." A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.

"Uh huh." I couldn't keep the 'whatever' tone out of my voice.

"What would happen if we aren't in the past? Suppose someone eventually tracked us down, happily living in our woodland paradise? How do you think 'we thought we were in the past' would go over?"

I had to chuckle at the thought of that testimony in front of a review board. "So we're going for different reasons? You're trying to prove that you're right and I'm trying to prove that you're not?" I clarified.

"They *do* say that opposites attract, Scully." The richness of Mulder's tone created a delicious tingling in my belly. Before I could respond, his lips were on mine, his tongue gently seeking entrance to my mouth. We kissed languidly, slowly savoring each other; no longer feeling any urgency, but simply relishing the fact that we could now enjoy each other this way.

"Don't think this'll change my mind." I pulled out of the kiss to warn him breathlessly.

"Maybe I'll just distract you for a little while," he chuckled before capturing my lips again.

His hand was drifting from my waist up toward my breast when a sound behind us startled me. It wasn't that I was surprised that someone would come into our wigwam unannounced, I was getting used to that. After our announcement last night, I wasn't expecting to be treated like company anymore.

"Good morning, Wanik," I smiled as I turned to face her.

As she handed me our breakfast she gave me a sad smile. Then after picking up my dress that had been folded at the foot of the bed, handed it to me and nodded toward the door.

"Okay," I nodded as I hurriedly began to eat my breakfast.

Smiling again, she backed out of the wigwam.

"I think you were just told to hustle your ass," Mulder grinned at me.

"Just as long as it's not the bum's rush." I couldn't figure out why she was in such a hurry.

"I'm sure she just wants your help with something," Mulder tried to reassure me. "Or maybe she wants an encore of the pee-pee dance."

By the time I went looking for Wanik, the encampment was buzzing with activity. The men were nowhere in sight, but the women were all busier than I'd ever seen them. I found Wanik crouched by a small fire. In a rough wooden bowl, she was mixing some kind of dough. Her face lit up when she saw me and she patted the ground beside her.

Once I was settled, she took a cast iron skillet and set it on some stones that held it above the fire. Then she picked up a small leather pouch and she scooped out some grease and put it in the pan. Every so often she would glance up at me to make sure I was watching. Using her hand, she took some of the dough and formed it into a ball. Then she began to flatten it by patting it back and forth between her hands. When the grease in the pan had melted, she quickly set the dough in the pan and flattened it further by pressing on it with her palm, spreading it out to fill the pan.

After waiting for a minute or two, she began to gently spin the cooking dough around in the skillet. When it reached some secret stage, she quickly flipped it over, using just her fingers. The top side of what I now recognized as bannock was golden brown. Even though I'd just finished breakfast, the smell was making my mouth water. A couple of minutes later, Wanik took the pan off of the fire and slid the finished bannock onto a deerskin.

Once she'd replaced the skillet on the fire, she handed the pouch of grease to me. It was then that I finally realized that I was getting a cooking lesson. So I began to mimic the steps that Wanik had shown me. My first attempt turned out a little on the crispy side and Mulder, who had joined the few women who were watching the spectacle, laughed at my blackened bread.

"You want to try?" I motioned for him to take my place.

"Nope, you're doing just fine," he back pedaled rapidly, his hands up in surrender.

"I thought as much," I huffed as I continued with my second attempt, which I ended up under-cooking.

It took all of the dough that Wanik had mixed before I finally managed to cook one properly. When I looked for Mulder to gloat, I couldn't see him anywhere. As it turned out, it didn't matter; Wanik wasn't through with me yet.

Taking the bowl that the dough had been in, she filled it halfway again from a nearby sack. It looked like whole-wheat flour, but I knew there had to be more to it than that. Using warm water from another fire, she showed me how to mix and knead the dough. When we were done, I'd become fairly proficient at bannock making.

Before I had a chance to look for Mulder, Wanik started to show me how to make the venison and wild rice stew that was a staple here. Mulder was right; we weren't being shown the door, we were being given the tools to survive on our journey.

I took Wanik into my arms to try to show her my appreciation, and she was puzzled by my action. Then I backed up and tried to smile and say thank you, but my mouth wobbled and tears clouded my eyes. I was worried that she didn't understand how grateful I was, but she pulled me back into an embrace, patted by back and murmured softly. When we parted, the tears shining in her eyes made me well up all over again. But I didn't have time to wallow in my sorrow; Wanik still wasn't done with me.

After we ate a quick lunch, she began to pack foodstuffs into a haversack. With the exception of the meat, she packed everything that I would need to make what we had practiced earlier. In the middle of the packing, Mulder showed up looking for food. With a roll of her eyes, Wanik handed him a bowl and a wooden spoon and sent him off in the direction of a pot of stew that had been simmering all morning. Wanik, it seemed to me, thought men were all the same.

I watched carefully as Wanik packed. She showed me everything that went in. The sight of salt, oatmeal, and whole-wheat flour surprised me. They weren't commodities that I associated with Native Americans; at least not traditionally. With the cookware that we'd used and this food, I came to the conclusion that if Mulder was right and we were in the past, we weren't as far back as he thought. Once Wanik had finished packing, she had me wait for a minute while she dashed off toward her wigwam.

Now that we'd spent a few days here, I was starting to figure out some of the family connections. Wanik still lived in a wigwam with her parents. Originally, I'd thought that she was in her early twenties, but now I had a feeling that she was younger than that. There was nothing specific I could point to, it was just a feeling. I'd seen some of the younger men trying to get her attention, but she didn't seem to notice. Most of the other girls her age were already attached, and a few of them were pregnant. Wanik was a very pretty girl and it made me wonder why she didn't pay any attention to any of the young men who obviously liked her. I did assume that in this society, she wouldn't have much choice in who she was partnered with. I wondered if she'd already been promised to someone-maybe in another tribe. Then I shook my head slightly as I realized that I was starting to think as if Mulder was right about where we were.

If we'd only been able to communicate more easily, so many questions could have been answered. My thoughts were interrupted by Wanik reappearing, her arms full of cooking implements-two little tin pots, a small skillet, three bowls and various utensils. Hoping that she would recognize my words of gratitude, I thanked her again.

It was suppertime before Mulder and I had a chance to talk again, sitting in front of a small fire near our wigwam. But he wouldn't tell me what he'd been up to all day, saying that he'd been sworn to secrecy.

"I'm a man of my word, Scully," he responded dryly when I tried to coax it out of him. "You'll find out soon enough."

I went back to my food, trying not to care that he was keeping something from me, but the suspense was killing me.

"How'd your cooking lesson go?" Mulder tried to restart our conversation.

"Fine," I replied snappishly, instantly regretting my tone.

"Scully," Mulder leaned over to whisper, "I would tell you but I promised. You wouldn't want me to break my word and ruin the surprise would you?"

"I guess not," I admitted, but I still didn't feel any better about it.

"Your feet seem to be completely healed." Mulder changed the subject.

"Pretty much," I agreed. "It's a good thing, too. I've got a long walk ahead of me in bare feet."

"You should be fine in the woods. It looks like your soles have started to toughen up already." He nodded at my feet. He had taken to walking around barefoot too. His dress shoes just didn't suit his breeches.

"I used to go barefoot in the summer all of time. The soles of my feet would be like leather, come September." I thought back to all of the time spent on different, yet almost identical bases. All of the kids ran wild in the summer-almost controlling the place. Even the MPs gave way to us on the streets. I was still thinking about Kool-Aid and homemade popsicles when Mulder asked me if I was done with my bowl. I looked up to see Wanik standing there, patiently waiting for me to finish.

"Why do you think it's Wanik that's always looking after us?" Mulder wondered aloud when she'd gone.

"I'm guessing that it's because she has no one else to look after. It was easier than burdening someone who had a family," I suggested with a shrug.

"I wonder why she doesn't have anyone to look after? Seems to me that she'd be a good catch." Mulder mirrored my earlier thoughts.

"I wondered the same thing, but I doubt we'll ever know, Mulder."

"Mmm," he replied vaguely, apparently lost in his own thoughts.

Twilight had settled over us and the warmth of the day vanished almost immediately.

"Maybe we should call it a day." I rubbed my bare arms, trying to warm them up. "If we're leaving tomorrow, we should get some sleep."

"It's a bit early yet, Scully," Mulder chuckled. "C'mere, I'll warm you up if you're cold. Or were you hoping that I'd warm you up in the wigwam?" He waggled his eyebrows at me.

"Do you ever think about anything besides sex?" I shook my head.

"Let me see." Mulder spoke slowly and rubbed his chin thoughtfully before his armed whipped out and snagged me around the waist. He dragged me, giggling, onto his lap. "Not really," he whispered into my ear before his lips began to tug on my earlobe. "Occasionally I think about global conspiracies." His hand was slowly sliding up the inside of my thigh. "Cases sometimes distract me from thinking about sex, but more often than not, dreaming about having sex with you would distract me from a case."

"Oh yeah?" I murmured huskily.

"And there is that obscenely overdue triple X bill," he reminded me, barely lifting his lips from my neck.

"I think that still counts as sex," I argued half-heartedly. The truth was, I was enjoying being warmed up too much to care. I turned my face to his, seeking his mouth. His hand wandered perilously close to the juncture of my thighs as we kissed. A soft shuffling sound made me open my eyes.

"Mulder," I broke our kiss.

"Hmm?" His lips settled on my neck again.

"We have company."

Our small fire was surrounded by almost every member of the village. Namid sat down opposite us, and everyone joined him, circling the fire. There wasn't enough room left for me to slide off of Mulder's lap, but he slowly eased his hand out from under my dress. I don't think we fooled anyone, but I don't think they cared either.

Namid began to make a speech, and despite his gesturing and the fact that I recognized some names, I couldn't follow what he was saying. Suddenly Wanik stood up, and taking her hands from behind her back, she held out a pair of moccasins to me. Scrambling out of Mulder's lap, I stood up to accept them. I recognized them instantly as the pair I'd seen her working on by the fire. Each top had been decorated with a sun of yellow and orange beads; the rays reaching the outer seams.

"Wanik, they are beautiful," I sighed. "But you went to so much work." She smiled joyfully at me as I ran my fingers over the beadwork. "I can't thank you enough." Lowering her eyes shyly, she returned to her seat.

"Did you know about this," I accused Mulder once I'd settled into his lap again.

"Nope." He shook his head. "Honestly," he swore when I turned to look at him sharply. "I had an idea, but I wasn't sure."

I was busily admiring my new shoes when Abequa, one of the grandmothers that Mulder liked to flirt with, stood up. She, too, held out a pair of moccasins, but these were larger, intended for Mulder. When I started to get up, Abequa motioned for me to stay put and handed the shoes to Mulder.

"You knew about these?" I leaned back to ask. "That's why you suspected that I'd be getting a pair?"

"Mine were made today," he confirmed. "Abequa measured me for them this morning."

Namid started to speak again, so Mulder and I listened politely. As he spoke, he stood up and everyone but Mulder and I gasped. Shrugging out of the vest he was wearing, he presented it to Mulder. This time I got out of Mulder's lap and when he stood up, the chief helped him into the vest. The front was adorned with suns similar to the ones on my moccasins, but the back featured a large picture of a fox. Mulder was speechless; not a condition I'd seen him afflicted with often.

"Say something, Mulder." I jabbed him in the ribs. "Smile, anything."

"Thank you, Namid." Mulder's voice was laden with awe.

Then everyone stood up and began to talk at once. It appeared that Namid giving up his vest was a major event. Standing behind Mulder as he was congratulated by the men, I studied the design on his back. Red, black and white beads combined to create a fox, standing on its hind legs, looking up and to the left. In a semi-circle above the fox's head, floated 7 blue stars. Although it was merely a coincidence, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

I was still looking at Mulder's vest in amazement when I heard Omiga's voice. Everybody stopped milling around and sat down again. Omiga made a speech of his own and then motioned for Mulder and me to stand up. Then he turned to retrieve two bowls that were on the ground behind the circle. I cringed inwardly, but tried to keep the smile on my face. As long as it wasn't like that first drink he gave me, I'd be fine. It turned out to be like neither the first or the second; it was very sweet-almost syrupy.

When we handed the bowls back to Omiga and thanked him, Namid clapped his hands together twice. There was some scurrying about and then I saw several of the men formed into a small circle. The beating of a drum began, followed by the rise and fall of their voices. Around them, all of the young, unattached men of the village began to dance. The clothes and make-up they wore weren't as elaborate as I'd seen in pictures, but far grander than anything I'd seen here.

The women bowed their heads together and murmured as they watched. One of the little boys got up and began to mimic his elders, making everyone smile. When the dancing stopped, the drumming continued. Once the drumming faded away, one of the grandmothers stood and spoke. Everyone listened in rapt attention as she talked. At the end of her story, there was more murmuring, and the crowd began to disperse.

With all of the reveling, it ended up being quite late before we finally got to bed. I had been worried that we had offended these people by saying we had to go, but they seemed to understand completely. We couldn't ask for better friends. When we needed help, they gave it to us-fed, clothed, and sheltered us just as Mulder had said. And now that we were leaving, they were giving us everything we could need for the trip, and they'd given us a going-away party to boot. As I lay in Mulder's arms drifting off to sleep, I thought about everything that had happened and what was yet to come. But even the thought of our upcoming journey couldn't keep me awake.

The sun hadn't yet begun to burn off the early morning mist when Wanik woke us. After a quick breakfast, Nawkaw helped Mulder and me sling our haversacks. Pots hung from my pack, and the skillet from Mulder's. Then we were each given a water skin to carry over our shoulders. With all of the commotion, I didn't notice that someone else was being loaded up as well; it was Apram. It had never occurred to me that we'd be given a guide. And if it had, I never would have expected it to be the chief's son.

In the little time we were given to say goodbye, I gave Omiga and Wanik each a quick hug. Mulder shook Namid's hand, but before I had a chance to thank the chief myself, Apram was hurrying us out of the village. I tried to wave to everyone, repeating all of the names I could remember. Mulder was more stoic, but judging from the way his jaw was clenched, I could tell that he was going to miss these people as much as I was.

End chapter 5


	6. Chapter 18

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Our journey was familiar at first; we followed the path back  
toward the raspberry patch. My moccasins felt heavenly and we  
were making good time, despite the weight of the packs we were  
carrying. It was also easier to cover more distance when I wasn't  
wearing those ridiculous shoes. By the time the sun was overhead,  
we had passed the spot where Mulder and I had built the lean-to.  
My stomach was just beginning to complain when Apram reached into  
a pouch that he had tied around his waist. He produced some  
bannock and strips of dried meat and doled them out. I didn't  
know if I was going to like the meat, but I tried it anyway.

Apram didn't stop; we ate as we continued to walk. Sweat trickled  
down my back and my legs were starting to quiver. I'd thought I  
was in better shape. Apram sighed impatiently when I had to stop  
to relieve myself. He and Mulder seemed fine; their bladders were  
obviously bigger than mine. When we were underway again, Apram  
increased his pace. I almost had to trot to keep up. When I saw  
that the sun was low in the western sky, I assumed that we'd be  
stopping soon, but Apram pushed on. I was beginning to fear that  
he was going to walk all night when I heard an unfamiliar sound.  
At first it was barely a whisper, but it gradually became louder.  
The big river, I realized finally.

"Maybe he wanted to make it to the river before we stopped,"  
Mulder ventured, as if he'd read my thoughts.

"God, I hope so," I muttered. "I can't keep up this pace, Mulder.  
I practically had to run to keep up with you two."

"Why didn't you say something?" He turned to look at me.

"I didn't want to slow us down. Apram is doing us a really big  
favor and I don't want to appear ungrateful," I explained.

"I'll see if I can get him to slow down," Mulder offered,  
turning and quickening his pace.

"No, Mulder," I called after him, but he waved me off.

He had no sooner caught up to Apram than the trees thinned out  
and a large river spread out before us. Our guide stopped  
and lowered his pack to the ground. As soon as I caught up to  
them, I did the same and then sank to the ground. Mulder took one  
of the pots and fetched some water from the stream. I drank it  
quickly. Apram had disappeared back into the woods.

"I'll get him to take it easier tomorrow, Scully." Mulder  
crouched down beside me and pushed some sweaty clumps of hair off  
of my face. "My legs were done in by noon," he confessed.

"There is no way I can take another day like this, Mulder."

As we spoke, Apram reappeared carrying some firewood. In no time  
he had built a little fire. When it was burning brightly, he  
turned to me and nodded towards the fire. It took a minute, but I  
slowly realized that I was expected to cook. All of my muscles  
were quivering and my back ached and he wanted me to prepare the  
food. But with everything that he had done for Mulder and me, I  
could hardly say no. So I nodded at him.

"I'll help," Mulder offered quickly when he realized what Apram  
had asked.

It took some time to get a few stones from the riverbank arranged  
so that I could use the skillet, but Wanik had taught me well,  
and bannock making was almost second nature. When the bread was  
done, Apram gave me more of the jerky. It took another game of  
charades for me to understand that he wanted me to stew it with  
some wild rice.

We ate most of the bannock while the stew cooked. The wild rice  
began to split just as the jerky grew soft. The smokiness of  
the meat was wonderful with the nutty flavor of the rice. Neither  
Apram or Mulder complained about the food; they barely stopped to  
take a breath as they ate. Then they divided what was left in the  
pot between them, after Mulder first offered some to me. Apram  
even wiped the pot out with the last of his bannock.

I smiled appreciatively at Mulder when he gathered up the dishes  
and took them to the stream. Apram took out his knife and began  
to whittle a piece of wood; I wondered sleepily what he was  
making. The fire cracked and popped, drawing my attention. The  
dancing flames had a mesmerizing effect.

I heard Mulder's voice and realized that I must have drifted off.  
When I dragged my eyes open, sunlight assaulted them. I was  
under a blanket, and Mulder was spooned up to me, grumbling. I  
turned to find Apram shaking Mulder's shoulder. He was grinning  
broadly and shaking his head. After I'd shaken the cobwebs out  
of my head, I discovered that it was fairly late, much later than  
we'd left the day before. But I could've easily slept for another  
couple of hours.

Apram had the fire burning steadily for me. I knew without being  
asked that I was expected to make breakfast. When I started to  
rummage through my pack, Mulder graciously offered to help again,  
but I assured him that I could manage breakfast by myself.

It took no time until the porridge was bubbling away. Apram  
surprised me by handing me the other pot, which he had filled  
with blueberries. The berries turned the bland gruel into a  
treat. When we'd finished breakfast, Apram confused me by  
pointing to the skillet. Then he showed me his waist pouch,  
conspicuously empty of bannock. So before I packed up, I quickly  
fried some up. After I'd made one batch, he asked me to make  
another. I agreed, assuming that he'd thought we were a bit short  
yesterday.

As soon as we were on our way again, Apram set his torturous  
pace. It took some convincing, but we got him to slow down. He  
wasn't impressed, but he consented. I hated to make demands, but  
I couldn't repeat yesterday's pace. We weren't strolling now, but  
at least I had time to look at the scenery.

The forest was impressive; I'd never seen oak trees that big. To  
our left, the river flowed rapidly, sparkling in the sunlight.  
The constant rush of water filled my ears. The air was cooler  
and smelled fresher here. Wildlife was abundant; we startled  
several deer as we walked. At one point Apram stopped and  
pointed across the river. Ambling through the undergrowth, on his  
way to the water, was the largest black bear I'd ever seen. I was  
thankful that the river separated us.

Although my legs were sore, I wasn't having any trouble keeping  
up today. Mulder even took my hand as we walked behind Apram.

"It's beautiful here, isn't it?" Mulder nodded toward the trees.

"It is, and so peaceful," I sighed.

"Those oaks are enormous. I don't think I've ever seen one that  
big." From his tone I could tell that he wanted me to take his  
comment further.

"So, from that you think, what? That we aren't in Wisconsin after  
all?" I tried to figure out what he was thinking.

"No, my point was, I don't think there are any deciduous forests  
left like this in North America. The lumber barons stripped the  
land clean of trees like these. There might be an occasional  
giant oak left, but miles upon miles of them...?" He let his  
voice trail off.

I couldn't argue this point; he was right. We'd seen giant  
redwoods on the west coast, but I'd never seen a forest like this  
east of the Rockies. We walked on in silence, Mulder apparently  
content to let me mull over these new considerations.

A short time later, Apram meted out the bannock and dried meat.  
As we ate, I continued to look around. I thought about all of the  
ground that we had covered without seeing another soul.

"Maybe we're in a National Forest?" I offered suddenly.

"Maybe," Mulder shrugged, but I knew he wasn't convinced. I  
hadn't even convinced myself, but I still couldn't accept his  
time travel theory. I knew it was a remote possibility, but it  
was so far-fetched. Dr. Mettler would had to have been so far  
ahead of his time *and* working in isolation; no partner to help  
him when he got bogged down, to see things from a different  
perspective. Maybe he *had* figured out how to create a stable  
wormhole, but the energy he would've needed was phenomenal. His  
electricity provider would have noticed immediately.

I was still chasing it round and round in my head when the noise  
from the river increased dramatically, interrupting my thoughts.  
The river had become wider and shallower; the sound I heard, a  
set of rapids. When we were beside them, they were too loud to be  
heard over. Apram pointed across the river and then took off his  
moccasins. Stepping from stone to stone, he picked his way to the  
opposite bank. I went next, moccasins in hand, making sure that  
the stones I chose were dry. The water was shallow, but the  
current was swift enough to carry a person away.

When I landed on dry ground and turned around, I was shocked to  
find Mulder right behind me-I hadn't heard a thing. My heart was  
still pounding when Apram picked up a stick and began draw in the  
dirt. Shortly he'd recreated the map that Mulder had drawn back  
at the village. His version showed the village, the stream, the  
river, and the ford that we had just crossed. Beyond that he  
extended the river to where it emptied into a lake. Then he drew  
a line around the east end of the lake and pointed to the area  
that Mulder thought was Madison. Mulder nodded to let Apram know  
that he understood.

After tossing his stick back onto the ground, Apram opened his  
waist pack and took out most of the jerky and handed it to me.  
When I looked at him in confusion, he pointed to himself and then  
back across the river. Without another word or gesture, he turned  
and stepped from stone to stone again until he'd reached the  
western bank. I watched in stunned silence as he stooped to put  
his moccasins back on and then start to walk back the way we'd  
come. When I turned to look at Mulder, his eyes were wide with  
shock too.

"I guess we're on our own now." He raised his voice to be heard  
over the rapids.

My head bobbed slightly in response; I was still too overwhelmed  
to speak. Mulder took the meat that I was still clutching and  
put it in my pack. Then he took my hand and we started to walk  
downstream. Once the roar of the whitewater was behind us, it was  
easier to converse.

"I think he brought us this far to show us where to cross the  
river. It's fairly straightforward from here on." Mulder gave my  
hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I know we'll be fine, Mulder. I just thought he'd stay with us  
all the way."

"I think we should find a nice place to stop and camp for the  
night." He changed the subject.

"After yesterday, I'll be happy to take it a little easier  
today," I laughed.

"We can set an easier pace; no sense in wearing ourselves out.  
It's mid-afternoon anyway." He nodded toward the sun.

"I'd really like to take a bath." I wrinkled my nose. "And I  
don't even want to know what my hair looks like." I hadn't been  
able to wash my hair in over a week. I'd rinsed in the stream and  
combed it with my fingers; but after getting so sweaty yesterday,  
it didn't bear thinking about.

"It's not that bad," Mulder assured me. "A little bit wild, but  
I like wild." He grinned mischievously at me.

As we spoke we approached a bend in the river. There, the banks  
became less steep and a few willows graced a grassy plateau; the  
huge oaks having given way.

"I'd say this is the place." Mulder looked to me for concurrence.

"It's one beautiful vista after another here, isn't it?" I could  
envision picnickers or campers choosing this spot. It was  
perfect; grass, shade and a crystal clear river.

"Do you want to sleep out in the open again tonight?" Mulder  
scanned the area.

"As long as we have a fire, I think we'll be fine. We have a  
couple of blankets; the ground is dry." I took stock.

"Al fresco, it is," Mulder said decisively, then helped me off  
with my pack. "I'll go hunt for some firewood," he told me after  
he'd slid his own pack off.

"You don't mind if I go for a bath now, do you?" I was anxious  
to be rid of the layer of sweat and dirt that was covering me.

"Go right ahead, I'll be in to join you as soon as I can." He  
smiled and then traipsed off into the trees.

After I'd stripped off my dress, I gave it a wary sniff, but it  
didn't smell bad at all, just the rich scent of the leather. So  
I laid it on the grass and set my moccasins beside it. Then I  
walked carefully down the gentle slope that led to the river.

This water was cooler than the stream near the village, but I got  
used to it quickly. The bottom was rocky and the current fast, so  
I knew I wouldn't have to worry about leeches. Once I was in the  
water, the only way I could wash was by rubbing my skin with my  
hands, but it would have to do.

The hardest part was getting my hair wet. The water seemed so  
much colder to my head, but I had to clean it somehow. I decided  
that the best way to wash it would be to stand in water that was  
about mid-thigh deep, facing downstream, and then bend over to  
immerse my head. While underwater, I scrubbed my scalp with my  
fingers. When I straightened up, I flipped my hair back and  
squeezed some of the water out of it. After I'd caught my breath,  
I dunked my head again. This time I rubbed my hair between my  
palms. Once I'd repeated that a few times, I waded back into the  
river until the water was shoulder deep. After turning around, I  
laid my head back in the water and let the water flow through it.  
Using my fingers, I managed to get most of the tangles out.

Feeling rejuvenated, I'd started back toward shore, squeezing  
water out of my hair as I went, when something caught my eye. I  
looked up to find Mulder standing in the grass, just watching me.  
The look on his face was almost predatory and even with the  
distance that separated us, I could see the prominent bulge in  
his pants. The sight of him watching me made my stomach  
flip-flop.

Trying to remain nonchalant, I continued to walk slowly towards  
the shore. Mulder's eyes never left me and he didn't move a  
muscle. When I reached the bank, I could hear his labored  
breathing.

"I thought you were going to join me." I kept my tone casual.

"I changed my mind." The smokiness in his voice stoked the fire  
that was already burning in my belly. I was only a few feet away  
from him now; he still hadn't moved.

"The water was nice-very refreshing." I informed him coolly.

"Mmm." His eyes traveled up and down the length of my body. I  
felt glorious. I loved the way he was looking at me, his desire  
for me so blatant.

I felt positively hedonistic standing naked in front of him.  
Although the river had cooled my skin, I could feel it beginning  
to heat up under his gaze.

"Why did you change your mind?" I reached up and squeezed some  
more water out of my hair. A small smile twitched at the corners  
of his mouth.

"I *was* on my way to join you," he told me softly, running a  
finger across my cheek. "But when I got here, I had to stop and  
watch."

"Why?" I looked up into his hazy hazel eyes.

"To watch you, in the water," he admitted.

"You were watching me? For how long?" I wondered if he noticed  
that my voice had become husky.

"You were washing your hair and when you straightened up, the  
water just slid off of you-cascading over your breasts." His  
hand left my cheek and followed the path that he'd described.  
When his fingertips brushed my already taut nipples, I drew in  
a quick breath. His touch had made my breasts begin to ache with  
pleasure. At my reaction, Mulder's eyes darkened further and his  
breathing became more ragged.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" he breathed as  
he leaned in to kiss me. My tongue had barely touched his, when  
he was gone again. His lips had found my neck, and he was gently  
nipping at my skin. My mouth wanted him back desperately, but  
what he was doing felt too good; I didn't want to stop him. He  
quickly moved on to my shoulders and then my chest. Managing to  
open my eyes, I found him kneeling upright in front of me; his  
face level with my breasts. Why had I ever complained about being  
short?

His hands were resting firmly on my ass, and as he began to place  
feathery kisses in the valley between my breasts, he gently  
caressed each cheek. My hips rolled forward, pressing my sex  
against his diaphragm. When his hot mouth latched onto my nipple,  
my knees buckled and I leaned even more heavily against him. He  
hummed against me, creating wonderful vibrations that I felt  
between my legs.

Mulder no longer seemed rushed; he licked, sucked and nibbled on  
my left breast until I was squirming against him. He must have  
felt how wet he was making me. I had to cling to his shoulders  
to stay upright and my eyes had drifted closed again.

An exquisite eternity passed before he decided to give my right  
breast the same attention. A low moan escaped my throat when his  
mouth closed around my areola and his tongue flicked my nipple.  
I'd discovered a long time ago that my right breast was more  
sensitive than my left, so Mulder's ministrations were making me  
dizzy with delight.

In the fog of my lust, I heard his voice asking me to lie down.  
Without opening my eyes, I complied immediately. I could feel his  
hands carefully guiding me.

The grass felt cool on my heated flesh. Dragging my eyes open, I  
discovered that Mulder was still kneeling beside me. His lips  
seemed slightly swollen, and his eyes were darker than I'd ever  
seen them. Reaching over, I began to loosen the laces on the left  
side of his breeches. He began to work on the right; his eyes  
never leaving mine.

When we'd lowered his pants to mid-thigh, my eyes were drawn to  
his erection. Almost of its own volition, my hand closed around  
his shaft and began to stroke him slowly. When I lifted my eyes  
to look at him, I found that his eyes were closed and his lips  
were slightly parted. I continued to watch his face as I caressed  
him. His head lolled backwards and his eyelids fluttered. When  
his eyes flew open, I stopped stroking him instantly.

Neither of us said a word, but our eyes remained locked as he  
stood to completely remove his breeches. After he kicked them  
aside, he knelt between my parted thighs. Then he leaned forward  
and kissed me. He kissed me the way I'd expected him to earlier;  
deeply, his tongue delving into my mouth demandingly.

He was demanding what I was aching to give him. I could feel the  
head of his cock, hot and hard against my opening, but he wasn't  
moving. I realized that I'd brought him very close, and he was  
trying to compose himself. So I wiggled around to try to get him  
inside of me, but he held himself back.

My super-sensitized flesh was throbbing against him. I moved my  
hands to his ass to try to show him what I needed. I couldn't  
speak; our mouths were too busy. When I pulled him towards me, he  
growled into my mouth and plunged into me with one smooth,  
powerful stroke. I came instantly, shuddering around him. When he  
thrust into me again, I was still shaking, the aftershocks  
continuing to course through me. He was driving into me now with  
a force I'd never experienced before. My body accepted his power  
willingly, rejoicing each time we collided.

Too short of breath, our lips had to part, and Mulder pressed his  
cheek against mine. I felt his muscles tighten and his body begin  
to quake. The anticipation of his climax sent another surge of  
excitement through me. I felt his cock begin to pulse and we  
shuddered together as his orgasm sent me over the edge again; the  
sounds of his rapture increasing the thrill for me.

We lay there, quivering and panting. When our breathing began to  
slow; Mulder began to kiss me softly, gently sucking on my  
lips, his hand in my hair. I was lightly massaging his back,  
and enjoying the curve of his ass. His lips drifted over my cheek  
to my ear, and he began to nuzzle it.

I was lost in this tender afterplay when a low rumbling sound  
made me open my eyes. "Sorry," Mulder apologized.

"Hungry?" I laughed.

"I'll be fine," he assured me as his lips returned to my ear.

"It's getting late, Mulder," I argued. "And we have a lot to do  
before we eat. I should take another quick dip and you haven't  
had a bath yet. Then you still have to get the fire-"

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, raising himself up on his elbow. "But  
I'm reserving some snuggle time for later."

"In front of the fire," I agreed, smiling at him.

After rinsing the grass out of my hair, I stood in the late  
afternoon sunlight to dry before I slipped my dress back on. As  
we had the previous night, we ate most of the bannock before the  
stew was ready. By the time we'd rinsed the dishes out in the  
river, the sun had set, leaving a darkening purple haze in its  
wake.

Even though it was still early, I was sleepy. My internal clock  
now seemed to be tuned to the sun. I was having a difficult time  
keeping my eyes open. Being snuggled up to Mulder under a  
blanket, beside the fire, only heightened the effect. I hoped  
that he thought that falling asleep in his arms counted as  
snuggle time.

The next morning, the third since we'd left village, I was up  
with the sun. I'd made the day's bannock before Mulder woke up.  
After a quick breakfast, we continued on our trek. The scenery  
was still amazing and we saw no sign of human beings, Indian or  
otherwise. We saw more deer and some rabbits, but I was very  
relieved that we didn't encounter any more bears. As Apram had  
taught us, we ate our lunch as we walked. When the sun began to  
sink, we found a spot to camp. It wasn't as nice as our previous  
site, but it was still lovely.

"How much further do you think it is?" I looked over at Mulder  
as I stirred our stew.

"I didn't think to ask that, but judging from the amount of  
jerky that we have left, another day and a half." He was  
leaning up against our packs watching me.

"What if that was based on Apram's pace?" I was worried about  
our food supply.

"I think they would have taken into account that we'd be slower.  
Besides, we won't starve if we run out of meat. There's still  
plenty of oatmeal and wild rice, and I can catch some fish if we  
need them." He tried to ease my fears.

"If we're a day and half outside of Madison, Mulder, shouldn't we  
have run into someone by now?"

"Not if I'm right, Scully." There was no hint of gloating in his  
voice. For the first time since I'd known him, I got the  
impression that Mulder didn't want to be right.

The next day followed the same pattern that Apram had set for the  
trip. Every now and then we had to take off our moccasins to wade  
through a little stream that fed the river, but we saw no sign of  
people.

We'd been hiking for a few hours on our fifth morning out when  
the river began to curve towards the east, and the trees beside  
it began to dwindle away. Soon the water was bordered by  
grassland. We were surprised to see a faint path in the grass.  
Actually, two paths that were separated by a grassy strip that  
looked somewhat trampled. We looked to see where the path had  
come from, but it disappeared in the tall grasses.

We were still looking toward the east when a black spot  
appeared on the horizon amidst the sea of grasses. In silent  
agreement, we stood motionless and watched as the spot grew  
larger. When my eyes finally began to distinguish a shape, I  
blinked several times in disbelief. I glanced up at Mulder to  
find a resigned look on his face.

"Maybe we can catch a ride?" he shrugged.

The team of large brown horses that were hitched to a wagon-load  
of hay would be upon us soon. The driver lifted his hat and waved  
to us with a flourish when he saw us.

end chapter 6 


	7. Chapter 6

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 6

As we stood watching the wagon approach, I could see the emotions I was feeling mirrored on the driver's face; shock, confusion and amazement.

"What in tarnation happened to you folks?" It was the first English Mulder and I had heard in over a week. "Excuse my boldness," he apologized quickly. "I just never did see white folks dressed this way before."

"That's all right, sir," Mulder answered quickly. "My wife and I were on our way to Madison when we were waylaid-they stole our horses, our wagon and left us in the woods. If we hadn't been found by Indians, I don't like to think what might have become of us."

I was amazed Mulder could fabricate a story so quickly. But then again, he had believed for a while now that we were in the past, so perhaps he'd been giving it some thought.

"What's this country coming to, I'd like to know, when God-fearing people have to endure things like this? It's a darn shame!" He shook his head. "Excuse my language, ma'am," he apologized again without looking at me. "My name is Ebenezer Peck, but folks call me Eben." He extended his hand to Mulder.

"Fox Mulder." Mulder shook Mr. Peck's hand firmly. "And this is my wife, Dana."

"Fox, that's an unusual name," Mr. Peck commented.

"It was my mother's maiden name," Mulder told him.

"Ah," Mr. Pecked nodded. "Well, I look forward to being more properly introduced when we can find you some clothes, Mrs. Mulder. It's appalling the way these Indians dress." He looked everywhere but at me.

"They *did* save our lives," Mulder pointed out.

"I have heard tell that there are *some* good Indians." Mr. Peck's tone was harsh.

I had to bite my lip to keep from saying something I'd regret. Getting into a debate about early American policies regarding Native Americans wouldn't serve any purpose right now.

"If you folks don't mind riding in the hay, I can take you to the town site. I run a boarding house there with my wife, Rosaline. We got a Congregationalist preacher staying with us right now and I know for a fact that he's brought some clothes with him. Of course, they were intended for the naked Indians, but you folks are needing them more." Mr. Peck raised his voice as Mulder and I walked to the back of the hay-wagon. After Mulder helped me up and then climbed up into the hay with me, he told Mr. Peck that we were all set.

"So where do you folks hail from?" Mr. Peck inquired after he chirruped to the horses.

"Chicago," Mulder lied.

"And what brings you to the frontier?"

"Looking to get a fresh start," Mulder told him, shrugging his shoulders at me as he spoke.

"Well, then you've come to the right place. Madison might just be the territorial capital right now, but Wisconsin'll be a state soon, sure-as-shootin'," Peck gloated. "That's why the missus and me pulled up stakes and left Blue Mounds to settle here. You can't just sit around waiting for your fortune to find you, you got to go out and hunt it down for your own self."

"You won't get any argument from me," Mulder chuckled.

"It's just a shame that spunky folks like you should get your dreams dashed by horse thieves and no-account scoundrels. There ain't even any law here to speak of. The outlaws always manage to get to a place first."

"Even if the law was here, there is so much wilderness, how could they protect it all?" Mulder spoke up.

"That's something," Peck agreed. "But you folks needn't worry. I know for a fact that they are short of men for building the capital, not to mention the new hotel that's going up on King Street. And Mrs. Peck sure could use another pair of hands to help with the chores. We got forty men staying with us. Why, I caught her sizing me up for an apron, just the other day."

Mulder and I had to laugh. Eben Peck seemed nice enough, even though I didn't like the way he talked about Indians. I would have to take the good with the bad. As the innkeeper continued to chat, the realization that Mulder was right finally began to sink in. We *were* in the past; Wisconsin wasn't even a state yet. For the first time since we'd woken up in the woods, I was truly terrified. Questions were swirling around in my mind; were we trapped here? How would we cope? Would anyone realize what had happened to us? Tears sprang to my eyes as I thought about my mother.

"It's okay, Scully. We'll be okay." I heard Mulder whisper. I looked up to find him studying my face, his brow furrowed in concern.

I opened my mouth to speak, but all I could do was draw a shaky breath. Mulder reached out and cradled my face with his hand. "As long as we have each other, we'll be all right." Then he pressed his lips to my forehead and that simple action was enough to calm me down.

I was still clinging to Mulder, breathing in his familiar scent to relax myself, when the sound of the horse's hooves grew much louder. Scrambling through the hay to the side of the wagon, I discovered we were crossing a wooden bridge. A river flowed beneath us, and the lake that was its source spread out before my eyes.

"This here is Sherman Avenue," Mr. Peck informed us.

In the distance, I could see some low buildings huddled together. From their midst rose the wooden skeleton of a much larger building; the capital building I assumed. Beside us was nothing but grass, stumps, and mud. Surveyor's stakes dotted the landscape; the town site seemed to have been laid out already. As we turned onto each new street, Mr. Peck would announce its name. "This is Canal Street," and "This here is Butler Street, where me and the missus built our boarding house."

I'm not sure what I expected, but I was surprised to find Mr. Peck's establishment was built out of logs. As he pulled the wagon around to the back of the building, I began to hear the ringing of hammers and the rasping of saws. The smell of manure had begun almost as soon as we'd crossed the first bridge at Sherman Avenue and kept getting stronger. Here by the stable the stench was extremely pungent. I realized what the culprit was when I saw a large pile of dirty hay and manure to the right of the barn. Mulder chuckled when I wrinkled my nose.

"Now you folks wait here. I'm going to make sure there aren't any men lingering after their dinner break. Most of these men ain't seen any women but Rosaline in almost two months. So I think it would pretty near start a riot if I was to parade a naked woman in front of them," Mr. Peck explained as he climbed down from his perch.

"You hussy!" Mulder smirked at me when we were alone.

"Shut up, Mulder." I swatted at him. I could feel my face was flaming; I was mortified that I was causing such a commotion.

Barely a minute had passed since the innkeeper disappeared inside before a short plump woman came hurrying out.

"Oh my land!" she gasped. "You poor thing. Let's get you inside. And you," she turned to Mulder. "Stay here and help Eben with this hay and then I'll find some clothes for you, too. Why it's a disgrace to snakes what happens to decent folks when there's no law around."

"Yes, ma'am," Mulder nodded solemnly.

"I'm Rosaline," Mrs. Peck informed me as she led me by the hand into the dark building. "It's a good thing that Reverend Foster brought that missionary barrel with him. The closest dry goods store is in Milwaukee. I suppose we could've altered some of my clothes, but you're such a wisp of a thing."

After leading me up a narrow staircase, she opened a door at its head. This room was brighter; lit by two small windows filled with wavy glass.

"What happened to your hair? Did you have a fever?" She looked at me with concern in her eyes.

"Oh, yes," I stammered, hoping it was the right answer.

"Oh, well, it'll grow back in time; at least you got better," she consoled me. "How long has it been, a year or two?"

I just nodded; I hated lying, but we didn't have much choice. Mulder was much better at it than I was.

"Maybe we could pin it up." Mrs. Peck misinterpreted my expression.

"Thank you," I smiled.

"Now, I'll just go and fetch that barrel. I'm sure we'll find something passable, and next time Eben goes to Milwaukee, we'll get him to pick up some calico and muslin. Then we can sew you up some things of your own."

"Thank you, Rosaline," I smiled. "I don't know what I'll be able to do to repay you."

"Well, I am looking for some help around here. You're tiny, but you look good and strong. If you're willing to work, there's plenty to be had." With that she stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her.

While I waited for her, I looked around the room. The furniture was sparse; a bed, two small dressers, a chair and a wash stand. Wooden hooks on the wall held spare dresses and coats. I was trying to see out of the blurry window when I heard Mrs. Peck's voice in the hall.

"I'll take it from here, Reverend."

Then the door swung open to reveal Rosaline struggling with a barrel. I hurried to help her with it. Soon we had the lid of the barrel off and she began pulling out clothes. I was amazed at the number of garments that had been stuffed inside. Rosaline sorted through it quickly, making three piles; one for me, one for Mulder and the last to go back into the barrel.

We found two dresses she thought should fit me and a stack of underthings big enough to sink a ship.

"We were lucky to find two of everything," she smiled as she inspected what looked like a slip. "You can tell rich folks donated these, all lace and silk and hardly worn. Some of these shifts are finer than my best dress." She shook her head and laughed.

At the bottom of the barrel we found four pair of shoes. The smallest pair was a little too big, but I'd be able to manage.

"We can't have you walking around in those," she nodded toward my moccasins. "I'm sure the Reverend would faint dead away if he caught sight of your ankle. Even poor Eben was beside himself, and we've been married these 27 years."

"I'm sorry." I hung my head. It had never occurred to me that my appearance would be so shocking. It was a good thing Eben Peck had stumbled across us. We might not have faired so well with someone else.

"There, there, dear," she murmured soothingly. "It's hardly your doing. Let me see if the Reverend has moved out of his room, then you can get yourself dressed."

"I don't want to put the Reverend out of his bed," I protested.

"What would you have me do?" Mrs. Peck stood with her hands on her hips. "Put you on a pallet on the floor with the men?"

"I guess not," I muttered.

"The Reverend didn't even raise an eyebrow and maybe he'll have a calming influence on those ruffians."

Just before we left the room, Rosaline reached into the top drawer of one of the dressers and pulled out a handful of rags and some strips of cotton and put them on the top of the pile I was carrying.

"Here's some muslin to use as dress shields and I suppose you'll be needing these rags when it's your time."

"Of course," I nodded as I followed her into the hall. I hadn't thought about my period at all. Thinking back, I realized my last one had been a week and a half before Mulder and I left for Madison. That meant I was due in less than a week. I was thankful that Mrs. Peck had thought to give me supplies; I would have had a difficult time asking.

In no time, with Rosaline's help, Mulder and my new apparel had been moved to a smaller room down the hall. Then I was left to my own devices to get dressed. From listening as Rosaline unpacked, I thought I'd figured out how everything went.

Once I'd slipped out of my deerskin dress, I laid it on the bed. Then I pulled on the stockings, but since I didn't have any garters, Rosaline said the cuffs of my drawers would do to hold them up. After the drawers, I eased into the chemise; the cotton felt cool against my skin. I was eyeing the corset warily when I heard a soft knock at the door.

"Who is it?" I called.

"Me." Mulder's voice answered.

"Come in, Mulder. Maybe you can help me," I sighed.

He grinned broadly when he saw me. "Very sexy, Scully." He waggled his eyebrows at me.

"Right," I chuckled as I slid my arms into the corset.

"You think I'm kidding?" His voice was low and mellow. "There is something decidedly naughty about seeing you in the underwear that is supposed to hide your body from prying eyes."

Except for my arms, I was completely swathed in cotton, but Mulder's words made me feel like I was dressed in risque lingerie.

"I wanted you to help me into this stuff, not out of it." I didn't try to suppress my grin.

Still dressed in his breeches and vest, he walked behind me. His chest was shining with sweat from the work he'd been doing. He smelled like leather and hay and testosterone. I knew he couldn't really smell like a hormone, but whatever his scent was, it smelled good to me. As he picked up the laces of my corset and began to tighten them, I felt his breath on my ear.

"I am planning on helping you out of them later." His whisper made me shiver in anticipation and I could only nod in response.

When he'd finished tightening my corset he gave me a pat on the ass. "All done," he smiled when I looked over my shoulder at him.

Then he moved to the bed and lay down to watch me as I finished dressing. First I slipped on a shift and then I pulled on each of the three petticoats. Finally I struggled into the dress, but I needed Mulder's help to button it. While Mulder changed into the pants and shirt he'd been given, I fought with my shoes. Mrs. Peck had given me a buttonhook to do them up with, but it took me a while to get the hang of it.

Mulder was waiting for me when I was done. He grinned at me again as I straightened my skirt.

"You even make that look sexy, Scully."

I looked down at the navy cotton dress with tiny yellow flowers scattered all over it and then back up at him. "I think you're a little bit biased," I smiled as I headed to the door. My skirt and petticoats swished as I walked.

"If you say so," he shrugged, a sly grin still evident on his face.

We found Mrs. Peck in the kitchen, cutting vegetables.

"How are you at making stew, Mrs. Mulder?" She asked when she saw me.

"I've never made so much at one time, but I think I can handle it," I smiled. "And call me Dana, please."

"Well then, Dana, you take over here and I'll make up the corn bread."

The meat was already browning in a large pot and Rosaline had potatoes and carrots waiting to be peeled and diced; she had already started on the onions.

"Here is an apron, you don't want to get your dress soiled." She handed me a large bib apron.

"Is Mr. Peck still at the stable?" Mulder asked from the doorway.

"He is, and he'd likely appreciate some help, if you're offering," Rosaline nodded.

"That I am," Mulder smiled and then disappeared into the hallway.

While we worked, Rosaline kept talking. I got the impression it had been a while since she'd had a woman's company.

"Did you think about what I said earlier, about helping out around here?"

"I did, and if you still want me, I really need the work." I blinked back the stinging tears the onions had brought to my eyes.

"I will offer you and your husband bed and board in exchange for your work, Dana," she continued briskly. "The work is hard, but with the two of us, we might get a minute's rest now and again. And if you could help with the chickens and the garden, that would free Eben up to do other chores. The roof on the stable needs to be patched and we'll need more stalls come winter. The cows are all right outside for now, but the nights will be getting cold soon enough."

I kept nodding as I worked trying to take in everything she was saying. Breakfast was served at 6 a.m., so we had to be up at 5 to collect the eggs. Dinner was served at 12 o'clock and supper at six. After the supper dishes were washed, my workday was done. In between meals we had other chores to do; Mondays we did laundry, Tuesday we ironed, Wednesday we did the mending, Thursday we scrubbed the floors, and Friday and Saturday were filled by all of the other chores we didn't have time for the rest of the week. Sunday was the only day we didn't have to do anything but cook and wash the dishes. My head was spinning thinking about all of the work.

"Since you are working for your bed and board, your husband will be able to save what he makes. When the building boom is over, you'll have yourselves a nice little nest egg." Rosaline smiled brightly at me. "And you can make some cash money of your own, if you like. The men always have mending and darning that needs to be done and I can't keep up with it. I charge extra for it, so if you want to take some of it off of my hands, you could make a little money that way."

"I thought you said we did mending on Wednesdays?" I was confused.

"That's just the sheets, dear," she clarified. "I charge extra to do their wash too, but I insist on it. The men aren't allowed to stay here unless they bathe once a week and get their clothes washed as often. It frightens me to think what they would be like if there weren't any women-folk around," she shuddered.

While the stew was simmering and the corn bread baking, Mrs. Peck tried to pin up my hair, but it wouldn't stay. She settled for tying it back with a ribbon. Then we began to set two long tables in the dining hall. Forty men would be eating here.

"We'll fill up large bowls and put out plates of bread. That way they can serve themselves. Of course, there's always someone complaining that they don't get their share," she shrugged.

"I don't want to speak out of turn, and while I know nothing about running an establishment like this, would you mind if I made a suggestion?" It was the most I'd said all afternoon.

"Of course not, dear. Sometimes it takes a fresh eye to see a better way of doing things," she replied sincerely.

So I described the way a soup kitchen was set up, with the men filing past and us filling their plates.

"That way no one could take more than their share and we'd save on washing the extra bowls and plates," I explained.

"That *is* a good idea, Dana. Why didn't I think of it?"

"You were probably too busy to stop and think," I offered.

"Probably," she agreed. "We'll start tonight. I'll get Eben to move one of the worktables in here from the kitchen. Tomorrow we won't even set the tables; the men can just pick up their plates and spoons off the serving table."

Mr. Peck did as his wife asked and when the men came in looking for their supper, he had to yell the instructions to be heard over the clamber. There was some grumbling at first, but they all complied; they had little choice.

Mulder stood off to the side and watched us. My presence was obviously a surprise and a murmur ran through the line of men.

"This here is Mrs. Mulder," Eben raised his voice. "And this is her husband." Mulder nodded to the men. "I trust that you will all mind your manners, or you'll have me and Mr. Mulder to answer to."

After a murmur of agreement rose up, the line of men fell quiet again. As they filed past, Rosaline filled their plates with stew and I handed them a slice of corn bread. There was enough stew for all those who wanted it to have seconds, and plenty of corn bread as well. The men were finished in half an hour and Mr. Peck said it was the quietest meal he could remember. The four of us ate our food quickly and then Mrs. Peck and I washed the dishes. Before I went upstairs, I asked Mrs. Peck if she would please wake me up in the morning; I doubted I'd get up that early on my own.

When I got to our room, Mulder had taken off his shirt and his suspenders were hanging at his sides. He was putting our clothes into the small dresser and our packs were sitting on the bed. As I helped him unpack, sort and put things away, we discussed our situation in low voices.

"I wish I knew how he did it." I referred to Dr. Mettler, shaking my head.

"We'll never know, Scully." Mulder's voice was quiet but firm.

"You don't think we'll ever get back?" My voice wavered.

"I don't see how we would. Even if Mettler has figured out how to bring people back, he wouldn't bring us back. We would be the final nail in his coffin."

I knew it was true, but I hadn't wanted to think about it. Even if anyone figured out what had happened to us, how would they be able to track us down in all of history? I sat down on the bed with a sigh.

"I know it's rough right now, Scully, but I've been thinking. Once more people start settling here, I could get a job as a teacher; it's a respectable salary. If we make enough money now, we might even be able to afford a house of our own. According to Eben, property around here is still pretty cheap. I don't want you to have to slave here for these men.." He sat down on the bed beside me.

"You're right, Mulder. We'll be fine, but when I think about how hard I fought to claw my way through the ranks of old boys-not only at the bureau, but at Med school too, and now look where I find myself." I shook my head again.

"Maybe you could start championing the women's rights movement now," he grinned.

"I don't think we should screw around with history, Mulder. You never know what might happen," I pointed out. "But I could work as a midwife. That's a perfectly acceptable job for a woman in this day and age."

"That *is* a good idea, Scully. You would probably be reimbursed in food, but that would save us money. Maybe we'd even be able to afford to get someone in to help with the housework."

"Slow down, Mulder," I laughed. "One step at a time."

"Can I help it if I want the best for you?" he chuckled and then pulled me onto his lap. He lowered his lips to my neck and kissed me gently.

"Hey!" I laughed. "You smell pretty."

"There was some soap on the wash stand," he shrugged.

"I probably reek." I wrinkled my nose.

"You smell like stew and corn bread." His voice was muffled by my hair.

"Great," I laughed ruefully.

"That's not a bad thing." I felt his fingers on the buttons of my dress. "Remember I said I wanted to help you out of this stuff?"

"Mmm hmm." I snuggled against him.

"Well, I changed my mind."

"You did?" My head jerked up in surprise.

"Yeah," he grinned broadly at me. "I want to just lie here and watch you undress."

"I see." I slid off of his lap and turned to look at him. "You want me to strip for you," I lowered my voice.

"Please." His voice was barely audible.

"Well, since you asked so nicely..." I began to ease my arms out of my sleeves.

Mulder's eyes burned into me as I slipped out of the dress. As he watched, I carefully hung it on a wooden hook on the wall. Then I stepped out of each petticoat, folded and laid them on a chair, one by one. I pulled the shift slowly over my head and added it to the pile on the chair. Then I reached around and started to undo my corset.

"Leave it on." Mulder's smoky voice startled me.

I said nothing; instead I bent over and unbuttoned my shoes. When they were off, I slipped off my drawers and then each of my stockings. Finally I was standing before him in nothing but my corset and chemise.

"Come here," he beckoned me softly. As I walked slowly toward him, he sat up, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and held out his hand to me. When I took it, he pulled me closer, forcing me to straddle his legs.

I felt his hands close over my ass and he lifted me off of the floor. I was mesmerized by the passion I saw in his eyes. I had dreamt that Mulder might feel this intensely about me, but I never thought I'd actually see it. The evidence of his raw emotion made my heart beat wildly; my labored breathing accentuated by the tight-fitting corset.

As his lips closed around mine, my eyes fluttered closed. While our tongues danced, I could feel that we were moving. Opening my eyes revealed that Mulder was now sitting against the headboard. I readjusted so I was kneeling over him, without leaving his mouth.

I dropped my hand to his pants, but I couldn't find a fly. Mulder reached down to help me and in no time he had shimmied out of his confines. This time our lips had parted, but Mulder grabbed my head and pulled me into another deep kiss. I didn't remain still; I raised up on my knees so I could lower myself onto him. As I did his hands drifted back to my ass and I moved mine to his shoulders.

I was surprised to feel him pull out of our kiss. When he was away longer than he needed for a breath, I opened my eyes to look at him, and found his eyes focused on where we were joined. I couldn't resist swiveling my hips as I took him in completely; my action making his eyelids flutter.

As I eased up slowly, I watched his face as he watched us. When I sank onto him again, his lips parted slightly and his nostrils flared. I kept my pace slow but steady, savoring the way his cock felt as it slid in and out of me. On every stroke my clit grazed against him. Soon I was throbbing and aching for release. He lifted his eyes to meet mine and their dark intensity made me groan.

"Do you want to come now?" he breathed.

"Yes," I panted.

"Good. I want to watch you." His lust-filled voice alone almost sent me flying over the edge.

Then I felt his hands move to my waist and he began to move me a little faster. Every time our bodies met, I felt my clit surge. When I couldn't wait any longer, I pressed myself to him and my clit pulsed against him as my orgasm flooded through me. When I dragged my eyes open again, his eyes were still blazing.

"So amazing!" he whispered before he captured my lips again. As we kissed, I could feel that he was still hard inside of me, so I began to move again. Mulder pulled out of the kiss, shaking his head.

"Get on your knees." His voice was soft and low. I wondered immediately if he had discovered that when it came to sex, I liked to be told what to do. That was why I had always chosen older, confident men.

I got to my hands and knees quickly, watching him over my shoulder. He was behind me in an instant. He eased into me slowly, and the sensation of his hard cock inside of me again caused my eyes to roll back in my head. His first full stroke was slow, but when I sighed and moved with him, he began to thrust faster. His hands tightened around my waist and I felt him shudder as he slammed into me.

"Scully," he whispered hoarsely just as I felt him pulsing inside of me.

We collapsed to the bed, panting. The room had grown dark while we were making love and I knew I wouldn't be able to stay awake much longer. As if reading my mind, Mulder rolled us to one side of the bed and pulled the blankets down. I crawled in still wearing my corset, but I didn't care, I was exhausted. Mulder spooned up to me and pulled the covers over us.

"Love you." His warm breath tickled my ear.

"I love you, Mulder," I told him softly and as sleep overtook me, I knew he was right. As long as we had each other, we would be able to handle whatever came our way.

End chapter 6


	8. Chapter 7

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 7

It was still dark the following morning when I heard Rosaline's soft knock. After I extricated myself from Mulder's arms, I slid out of bed, found my clothes and began to pull them on quickly. I struggled with my shoes in the dark, but I managed to get them done up. Remembering the brush I'd seen on the wash stand the night before, I felt around for it and quickly ran it through my hair. It was then that I realized that I'd lost my hair ribbon.

"Should I get up now, too?" Mulder wondered sleepily as I searched the bed. I found my ribbon tucked between the pillows.

"Breakfast is in an hour, and I think if you miss it, you're out of luck," I warned him gently.

"Bed's not comfortable without you, anyway," he sighed.

"I'd love to crawl back in with you, Mulder, but I have work to do." I leaned over to give him a quick kiss.

"Mmm, see you downstairs, Scully."

Rosaline was waiting for me in the kitchen when I dashed past on my way to the outhouse. Once I was back, I washed my hands at the pump in the sink.

"I try to thank Eben every day for putting this pump inside for me. It certainly is a blessing and such a time saver," she smiled as I slipped into my apron.

By the flickering light of a lantern, Rosaline pulled my hair back with the ribbon.

"Remind me to give you a lantern tonight, so you can do your own hair in the morning, but mind you don't burn it too long. It's not that the colza oil is dear, but we have a hard time getting it out here."

When she'd finished with my hair, she took some water she'd been warming on the stove and poured it into a bucket. Then she handed a couple of shallow pans and a wooden spoon to me. Before we left she picked up a basket-it made me wonder how she'd ever managed to cope on her own.

The barn, which was also made of logs, was a long building with low ceilings. Judging from what I could see protruding from cracks above me, I assumed that hay was stored up there in a loft. Lantern light was shining halfway down the center hall of the barn that Rosaline was leading me down. I followed her lead and picked up my skirts so that they didn't trail on the dirty floor.

"Mornin', Mrs. Mulder," Mr. Peck called from one of the stalls as we passed. He was sitting on a short three-legged stool, his cheek pressed up against the flank of fawn-colored cow.

"Good morning, Mr. Peck," I smiled. As we passed I heard the hiss of a stream of milk as it hit the side of the pail. When we got closer the end of the barn, I could see a wooden frame covered in chicken wire protruding toward us.

Rosaline lifted the lid of a box that sat next to the fence and scooped some of the contents into the pans I was carrying.

"Set those down, Dana, so I can add the water," she instructed. "And give a stir, will you?"

As I stirred up the mixture she began to explain what she was doing. "I like to pamper the hens with warm mash. I find they lay better that way-I give them warm water to drink too. I think it's worth the trouble to keep my girls happy."

The chickens must have known they were about to be fed because they'd left their roosts and were milling around a door in the barn wall.

I took the pans of mash while Rosaline carried the basket and water bucket. None of the hens tried to get out of the wire-frame door when she opened it; they were too busy trying to get out of the other door. In fact, we had to wade through them to get to it.

On the other side of the wooden door was a large enclosure built up against the side of the barn. It ran the width of the building, about 30 feet, and was the same distance deep. The frame of the pen was covered with chicken wire and half of it was topped with split logs, to provide some shade I assumed. The rest was finished like the walls of the enclosure.

Rosaline asked me to put the pans down on opposite sides of the yard while she filled the small trough. Once the hens were busy with their food, we went back inside to collect the eggs. I collected from one side of the henhouse, putting the eggs in my apron, while Rosaline took care of the other side. After I'd added my eggs to the basket, we headed back to the house. On the way I noticed that Mulder had joined Eben in a whitewashed room at other end of the barn.

When I mentioned that it looked like we didn't have enough eggs to feed all of the men, Rosaline explained that they served eggs a couple of times a week. The rest, she told me, were used for cooking. Wednesdays and Saturdays the men had eggs for breakfast and, if the hens were laying particularly well, they got eggs a third day. Other than that, they got porridge.

"Mind you, we'll have eggs every day; there has to be some benefit to running the place." She winked at me.

Once we were back in the kitchen, Rosaline set the eggs down and then showed me the proportions to use for the porridge. After she disappeared with the eggs for a minute, to put them somewhere cool I assumed, she came back and began to cut up several loaves of bread. Then she lifted two of the lids off of the stove, revealing the fire below. Over each opening she set a wire rack onto which she placed six slices of bread.

"Dana, will you watch the toast and butter it when it's done? I'm going to put the cream, sugar and preserves on the tables." While she spoke, she put four plates in a warming oven above me. "If I put the butter on the table, these men would spread it on like molasses."

It was no trouble to watch the porridge and take care of the toast. As I was putting it in the warming oven, I felt someone brush up against me.

"What's for breakfast?" Mulder whispered in my ear.

"The men are having oatmeal and toast, but I think we're having eggs." I smiled at him over my shoulder.

"That toast smells really good." His breath tickled my ear.

"Don't let him sweet talk you into any of that food," Rosaline laughed behind us. "As soon as the men are fed, Dana and I will cook breakfast for the four of us."

"Why don't I dish out the porridge? That way you and Dana can cook?" Mulder offered.

"You'd be willing to do that?" Rosaline's eyes widened in surprise.

"If it'll get me fed faster, I'd be more than willing," he assured her with a smile.

"Well I can cook the breakfast on my own, but Dana will need to make another two loaves of toast. So if you serve, Mr. Mulder, that should really speed things along. I like to see a man who's not afraid to do women's work when it will help out-even if he's just looking out for his own stomach."

When I'd finished toasting another loaf, I took it out on three plates and set them on the tables. Mulder was dishing out a second helping to a burly man, but he was watching the men like a hawk. As I excused myself to reach between them, they gave me a wide berth. I wondered if they would have reacted the same way if Mulder hadn't been watching.

It wasn't long before the dining hall had emptied out and the four of us were sitting at the small table in the kitchen. Our meal consisted of eggs, toast, and back bacon. Apparently another benefit of working with Eben and Rosaline was coffee. Rosaline explained that it was too expensive to give to the men, so she never started to brew it until after they'd left.

For some reason though, the coffee was upsetting my stomach. When I declined her offer, Rosaline offered me a glass of milk instead, which I gratefully accepted. I was surprised when I took my first sip that it tasted like someone had poured perfume into it. I decided that it must be because it was whole, unpasturized milk and vowed to stick to water after that. Mulder and Mr. Peck were finishing off the last of the toast with a second cup of coffee when the innkeeper cleared his throat.

"I know I mentioned that there was plenty of work in town, what with the capital buildings and the hotel, Mr. Mulder, but I was wondering if I might be able to interest you in working here with me?"

"What kind of work would I be doing?" Mulder set down his coffee cup.

"Mostly helping me, the way Mrs. Mulder is helping Rosaline. I have the cows to milk in the morning, then the work in the dairy. After breakfast I take the cows to pasture and then muck out the stalls. Then I don't have anything set until I bring the cows back, but I have all kinds of odds and ends to do in between. I was hoping you could help me out with those chores. Then we should have enough time to fix up the barn *and* get a store building up on the other property I own. The way people are flooding in here, I should be able sell it or rent it out, easily."

"I've never worked in a dairy, but I'm sure I could learn," Mulder replied quickly.

"You seem like you're willing to work, and the way I see it, that is what matters most," Eben continued earnestly. "Now, I'm going to offer you sixty cents a day, and that includes Sunday-the cows still have to be milked on the Lord's day. You'll find that laborers around here make sixty-five cents a day, but they don't get paid for Sunday."

"I'd get thirty cents more a week," Mulder noted.

"Right," Eben smiled. "And on Sunday we only do the necessities- milk the cows and clean out the stalls, but I'll still give you the full day's pay."

"That sounds more than fair to me, Mr. Peck." Mulder extended his hand.

"Please call me Eben." He shook Mulder's hand vigorously.

"I know it sounds odd, Eben, but I'd like you and Mrs. Peck to call me Mulder. That's what Dana calls me-I never did like my given name."

"Eben said Fox was your mother's maiden name." Rosaline looked puzzled.

"It was," Mulder affirmed. "But that didn't stop me from being teased all the time."

"That's a shame," Rosaline shook her head.

The rest of day passed quickly; I only saw Mulder at meal times. In between cooking and doing the dishes, Rosaline and I worked in the garden. Since she'd been so busy before she hired me, it had become somewhat overgrown, but with three hours of work we managed to get it cleaned up.

"We could use a good soaking." Rosaline stood looking at the garden with her hands on her hips. "It's been well over a week since we've had any rain and the last thing I have time for is hauling water."

"The soil is a little dry." I kicked at it with the toe of my shoe.

"Well, worrying won't make it rain any faster, will it? Since we have some extra time, why don't we make some pies? It will certainly surprise the men, it not being Sunday," she smiled. "I still have plenty of dried apples left and it's almost time for the new crop."

While the apples soaked, we made the pastry and then Rosaline stoked up the fire. Soon the mouth-watering scent of apple and cinnamon began to fill the kitchen.

"Would you like to make up the corn bread today, Dana, and I'll make the stew?" Rosaline asked while we were cleaning up from making the pies.

"Maybe I could make bannock instead. It goes well with stew." I had no idea how to make corn bread and I didn't want Rosaline to think I was completely hopeless.

"Bannock?" She looked at me questioningly.

"It's a kind of flat bread made with flour, fat, salt and baking powder," I explained.

"Baking powder?" she repeated. "Do you mean soda?"

"It's baking soda and cream of tartar." I had to think quickly.

"If that's what you'd like to do," she shrugged. "If the men don't like it, they won't be afraid to say."

I was only guessing at the ingredients based on a soda bread recipe that my mother used to make for my father. Rosaline watched me as I mixed up the dough, obviously curious, but she said nothing. After I fried up the first one, I tested it to make sure I was okay. It wasn't exactly the same as Wanik's, but it was okay. I offered a piece to Rosaline; she seemed a bit skeptical, but smiled her approval as she was chewing.

"That's quite nice. Where did you learn to make that?"

"When Mulder and I were staying with the Indians one of the women taught me how to make it."

Rosaline's eyebrows flew up. "Well keep that to yourself, Dana. Most of the men here won't touch if they know it's Indian food."

"I don't see what the difference is, but if anyone asks, I'll say it's my mother's recipe," I sighed as I began to fry another piece.

"I know the Indians were good to you and your husband, but you have to remember the history in these parts. It would be like rubbing salt into a wound."

"I guess you're right." I gave in-mostly because I didn't know specifically what she was referring to. I did know, however, that if there was any violence on the part of the Indians, it was with just cause. However, I kept my thoughts to myself.

The only noise in the kitchen was the sound of Rosaline's knife on the wooden table and the sizzling of the grease in my frying pan. Working like this in the kitchen reminded me of times spent in my mother's kitchen when I used to help her prepare the family meals. Suddenly I felt very alone.

Sorrow washed over me like a wave, starting with nausea that gripped my stomach, followed by a sob that caught in my throat, and ended with the tears that welled up in my eyes. I couldn't blink them back fast enough to stop them from overflowing onto my cheeks.

I kept cooking the bannock blindly, hoping that I could recover my composure before Rosaline noticed. But I couldn't stop myself from sniffing, making her look over at me immediately.

"What is it, dear? Is it what I said about the Indians?" She dropped her knife, hurried to my side and laid a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"No," I sniffed again. "I just got homesick all of a sudden. I miss my mother, and my brothers and their children." My voiced cracked. "I can't get used to the fact that I'll never see them again."

"Never is a long time, Dana. Maybe they'll decide to head west eventually too." She tried to soothe me.

"I don't think so," I shook my head.

"It's hard to up and leave your friends and family. I know, I did it when I was much younger than you to follow Eben. You have your husband, and he loves you very much-anyone can see that," she reminded me.

"I know, Rosaline, thank you." I tried to convince myself that my family was just far away. It was easier than trying to deal with the fact that they didn't exist yet.

Rosaline began to chat again, telling me about the farm that she and Eben had owned outside of Blue Mounds. I knew she was trying to keep my mind off of my troubles, and that fact alone was enough to make me feel better.

Supper passed without incident, except that the men enjoyed the bannock and were thrilled to see the pie. Rosaline made sure there was enough of both left to go with our supper too. Eben liked the bannock so much, Rosaline said I'd have to teach her how to make it. Mulder liked the pie so much, I'm sure he would have eaten the whole pie by himself if he'd been given the chance.

That night as I lay in Mulder's arms and he told me about his day, even though my heart ached, I hadn't felt this safe or loved since I was a little girl. My only real concern was that my mother might think I'd been killed or injured. I closed my eyes and prayed that she knew in her heart I was safe.

The following day was Saturday and it passed as quickly as Friday had. After breakfast, Rosaline and I cleaned out the chicken coop and after lunch we made bread. As we were kneading the dough I thought about how busy we'd been. I couldn't imagine how Rosaline had managed on her own-she must have worked from before dawn until long past sunset.

That evening, when the supper dishes were done, Mulder said he had a surprise for me in our room. I followed him up the stairs carrying the lantern and matches Rosaline had given me. I had no idea what his surprise might be and I laughed when he produced two newspapers.

"Don't you want to catch up, Scully?" he grinned.

Mulder let me choose between the Chicago Democrat and the Milwaukee Sentinel.

"Madison doesn't have a paper yet," Mulder informed me. "But according to Eben there's talk that one will be starting up soon."

Since the Chicago paper was larger, I decided to let him have that one first, and I took the Sentinel.

"This paper is dated Monday August 6, 1838, Mulder. Do you know what today's date is?"

"I asked Eben that, claiming to have lost track. He said it's August 18th," Mulder smiled as he flopped down on the bed. After I took off my shoes, I joined him. We'd intended to read our papers and then switch when we were done, but as we came across interesting articles we ended up reading them to each other. It was like a history lesson I recalled from high school; taking historical events and rewriting them like newspaper articles.

Martin Van Buren was president and his detractors said that he was responsible for 'The Panic of '37', but both newspapers agreed it was the policies of the Jackson administration that had created current fiscal problems. On the other hand, Van Buren didn't do anything to help his own cause by refusing to help the poverty-stricken. There was no public assistance of any kind, and it shocked me that he could remain so callous when people were starving.

Both papers also featured articles on the plight of the Cherokee Indians in Georgia. I was amazed that some of the public seemed to be siding with them. In fact, that had been the reason why, 20 years earlier, Davy Crockett had left politics. Yet the government was insisting they be evicted from their land. In 1838 public opinion apparently mattered little to the elected officials. At least the Clinton administration tried to appear to care what the public thought.

"When did the 'Trail of Tears' begin, Mulder? Do you know?"

"I can't remember when the actual exodus begins and I don't think that phrase has been coined yet," he told me. "It turns my stomach, knowing in advance what is going to happen to these people. These papers are predicting disastrous outcomes-and their estimates are woefully low."

"What can these bureaucrats possibly be thinking? They have documented evidence that far shorter forced migrations have resulted in huge losses of life. How can they turn a blind eye?" I'd been looking forward to reading the newspapers, but now I was depressed.

"That is something that has me confused." Mulder pursed his lips.

"That the government is turning a blind eye?"

"No, similar forced migrations," he clarified. "I thought the Fox Indians had been evicted from their land as well, but I assumed that I was misremembering."

"And?" I prompted.

"This paper cites the results of the migration of the Sauk and the Fox Indians from the Iowa territory to Kansas. There aren't supposed to be any Fox Indians left here, not for a long time now. The article mentions how they left this area over 100 years ago, after the French and Indian Wars."

"Maybe we met a different tribe. Maybe we misunderstood," I suggested.

"I don't think so, Scully. It would explain why Namid was not pleased to see us."

"You think they could be in trouble if they were discovered?" My stomach churned in realization.

"I think so," he nodded.

"I haven't said anything specifically about where we were or what tribe it was." I thought back to my conversations.

"Me either, and I think we should avoid that topic from now on." He folded up the paper he'd been reading.

I nodded my agreement. I couldn't bear thinking about being responsible for anything happening to Namid's band. For the rest of the evening, all I could think about was the horrible tragedy that was about to befall the Cherokee; knowing the future was not all it was cracked up to be. I vowed to keep my mouth shut in order to prevent a similar occurrence from happening to people that I knew and respected. I wasn't sure how much the government cared about 75 people, but I didn't want to find out either.

The next morning Reverend Foster held a service in the dining hall. Mulder, as with most of the men, wasn't thrilled about being there, but he put on a brave face. He knew it was expected. After lunch I was still feeling depressed about what I'd read in the paper the previous night. I hadn't realized how quiet I'd been until Rosaline spoke up.

"You're mighty quiet, Dana. Are you still homesick?"

Since I couldn't explain the real reason for my mood, I told a half-truth. "A bit."

"I think I'm just going to make baked beans for supper," she changed the subject. "I can handle that on my own, if you'll look after the dishes. You should go and get some fresh air. I'm sure that'll spruce you up."

"Are you sure, Rosaline? I don't want to leave you all of the work."

"You'll have to do the dishes by yourself, that's all."

"That's fine, that's great. Thank you, Rosaline," I gushed.

"Go on then," she waved me out of the kitchen with a smile. "And take my bonnet," she called after me. "Or those freckles will never fade."

Mulder and I spent a wonderful afternoon exploring Madison. It sent shivers down my spine to realize that during our investigation, we had walked these same streets-162 years in the future. Even though I had finally accepted the fact that we were in the past, I was still having a hard time getting my head around it.

Rosaline was right; the fresh air and sunshine did improve my mood. Walking along the shore of Lake Mendota hand in hand with Mulder had its merits too. By the time we returned for supper, I was feeling more like myself. I'd decided that if protecting my friends was all I could do, it would have to be enough. As happened in my future life-my real life-my life in the 20th century; whatever I should call it-terrible tragedies always upset me, but I'd learned not to let them run my life. I could never get them out of my mind completely, though.

The next week flew by and we received a couple of the days of rain that Rosaline had been hoping for. When I got faster at my work, I ended up having some spare time and got to go with Mulder when he took the cows to pasture early in the week. It made for a nice change of pace. He and Eben had finished fixing the roof on the barn and had almost finished the extra stall as well. Eben was anxious to get to work on his store building-new people were arriving in town every day. We had no beds left, but more and more people were taking their meals with us. By Friday there were two entire sittings for every meal; all of my spare time had vanished.

It was a relief when Sunday finally came again. Rosaline and I made the same arrangement as we had the previous week. This time, Mulder and I took a picnic with us. We didn't have to go far to be by ourselves and we got to spend a romantic afternoon together. When we were in our room, after he'd helped me with the dishes, Mulder decided to clean up a bit and pulled one of the rags Rosaline had given me out of my drawer. It was then I realized that I still hadn't started my period, but I figured my body was in shock from the time travel.

It was still nagging at me the following morning as I went to feed the chickens and collect the eggs. I was usually very regular, but I'd never had an experience like this before. There was nothing I could do about it here, anyway.

I was still wondering what might have happened to mess up my cycle as I headed back to the kitchen. I stopped dead in my tracks though, when I saw a figure standing in the shadows at the other end of the hall watching me.

End chapter 7


	9. Chapter 8

Old Growth Forest

chapter 8

Neither of us moved. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest as my eyes strained to see his face.

"I didn't mean to scare you." His voice was quiet.

"Who-who are you?" I stammered.

"My name is Jack." He took a small step toward me. The way he was treating me seemed familiar; similar to my hostage negotiation training.

"What are you doing here?" I tried to keep my voice steady.

"I'm not allowed inside," he explained.

"Yes, we *are* full, but I didn't know Eben was letting people sleep out here." As I was speaking, I heard the door of the boarding house open and then close again. Both Jack and I turned our heads toward the open barn door.

"So I told him he could just do that." Eben's voice held some mirth.

"And you walked away?" Mulder sounded surprised.

"The way I see it, you got to strike while the iron's hot. If a man waits too long, everybody and his brother will..." Eben stopped speaking when he stepped into the barn.

His lantern was bright enough to cast some light into the aisle. Jack was no longer in the shadows. I was astounded to see the familiar high cheekbones and sparkling dark eyes of the people we'd first encountered here. His clothes were similar to what Eben and Mulder were wearing. Now I could see he had moccasins on his feet and his long black hair had been pulled back into a ponytail.

"Jack!" Eben sounded pleased to see him. "I been expecting you, but you're a bit early aren't you? Payday ain't for another couple of days yet."

Mulder and I had learned the men were paid monthly. Rosaline insisted they pay for each month's room and board in advance. If she didn't, some of them wouldn't have enough money left to meet their obligations at the end of the month.

"Drinking and gambling when they have mouths to feed at home." I remembered her shaking her head in disgust when she explained the arrangement to me.

"I was hoping to buy some supplies too. I heard there's a merchant going to be opening soon." Jack's voice drew me back into the conversation.

"Very soon, if he agrees to my price," Eben chuckled. "Mulder and I might have to build around him, but I think he'd do best to get his business going. I heard there's more than one on his way out here to try his hand at a general store."

"Excuse me," I interrupted, "but I should get these eggs inside. Rosaline will be wondering what's keeping me."

"Forgive my manners, Mrs. Mulder," Eben apologized, "this here's Jack. He always shows up around payday and fleeces the boys."

"Nobody makes them gamble, Mr. Peck," Jack defended himself, "and you know I don't cheat. If they'd learn not to mix liquor with their cards, maybe they'd do better."

"Nice to meet you, Jack," I nodded and began to head back to the house.

"The pleasure's all mine, Mrs. Mulder." He smiled at me.

"Do me a favor and tell Rosaline that Jack's here," Eben requested as I walked past.

"I will," I agreed. Before I'd made it inside again I heard them continue their conversation. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but from the way they were laughing, it was obviously very funny.

As soon as I set foot in the kitchen Rosaline noticed something was wrong, "What's the matter, Dana? You're trembling."

I told her how Jack had startled me in the barn. What I didn't understand was why I was still shaking. In all my years working on the x-files, I'd been in far riskier situations that hadn't affected me this much.

While we were cooking breakfast, Rosaline told me she would set aside some food for Jack and we could take it to him in the barn.

"Why can't he eat in here?" I knew the answer, but I couldn't leave it alone.

Rosaline sighed, "Dana, we've been through this before. You know the men would object."

"But why can't he eat in the kitchen with us?" I tried to sound innocent as I placed some toast into the warming oven.

Rosaline started to say something, but changed her mind. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her eyes flick over at me. She pursed her lips as she picked up her tray of condiments. I didn't say anything else-it was her decision to make. It wasn't until Mulder was serving the porridge that she finally answered me.

"I suppose he can eat with us, but he'll have to pay more."

"Of course," I tried to keep my face solemn; I didn't want it to look like I was gloating.

Breakfast turned out to be very entertaining. Jack was quite a character and full of stories. As we ate, he regaled us with a story of how'd he'd spent an entire night being chased through the woods by a wolf when he was 15.

"I'd wandered away from the camp, following the call of a hoot owl when I heard a wolf howl behind me. I took off running, but couldn't get away. I could hear the wolf crashing through the undergrowth right behind me. I thought about climbing a tree, but I knew the wolf would catch me if I slowed down at all. Finally, when I could run no more, I collapsed into a heap, waiting for the wolf to bite. When nothing happened, I lifted my head to see what was going on. Much to my surprise, I found my father standing over me, shaking his head. He said to me:

'Son, if you are going to be in the forest after dark, you must be prepared to deal with what's out there. You must also remember that you will never win any battles unless you know your enemy; learn to face your foes.'

"From then on I was never without my knife. Now I always face my enemies head-on."

While the men were having a second cup of coffee, Eben asked Jack if he'd like to help with the store building. Saying he'd never turn down a paying job, Jack accepted readily.

Later that morning as I was churning the butter and Rosaline was heating up the wash water, she turned to me with a slight smile on her face.

"I guess Jack's not too bad."

"He's a good story-teller," I nodded, figuring an I-told-you-so wouldn't be the best route.

"He certainly is," she laughed, "I was on the edge of my seat."

The rest of the day sped by. When Mulder and I retired to our room, I was ready to curl up in his arms and go to sleep even though it was fairly early. He, however, was almost bursting to tell me something.

"Jack knows us." Mulder was on the bed wearing nothing but a crooked little grin.

"What?" I was still struggling out of my mounds of underwear.

"He knew your first name was Dana," he was watching me undress, lying on his side, propped up on his elbow.

"Eben must have told him," I pulled my shift over my head.

"Nope, and he pronounced your name Day-na," Mulder grinned.

"He did?" My eyes widened as I undid my corset. "How did he know?" Finally naked, I crawled into bed with him. Even though I was tired my body responded immediately when his arms slipped around me.

"He just came from the village," Mulder whispered before he pressed his lips against mine.

"No," I gasped through our kiss.

"Mmm hmm," he chuckled.

"And they mentioned us?" I placed soft kisses along his jaw.

"And Jack wasn't sure if the stories were true until he saw you. I was surprised when he wanted to know my first name," he continued in between sucking lightly on my neck.

"How is everyone? Did he say?" I'd forgotten my plan to go right to sleep. My hands were skimming over his back toward his ass. The work Mulder was doing seemed to be having a beneficial effect on his already lean frame; his muscles were becoming even more defined.

"That feels good," he breathed as I let my hand wander over his thigh. "Everyone is fine, and I think I've solved the Wanik mystery." His hand had found its way to my breast. My hips jerked forward when he tugged on my nipple.

"Really! Jack and Wanik?" My hand left his thigh and closed around his erection. He drew a long slow breath as I began to stroke him gently.

"God, Scully." His voice had grown hoarse. "Jack says Wanik won't agree to marry him unless he moves to the village permanently." Abandoning my breast, Mulder's hand drifted down over my belly. Wantonly, I adjusted my legs to give him free access. My hips jumped again at his touch.

"Why doesn't he? Doesn't he love her?" I wondered breathily as my thumb grazed over the head of his cock. I discovered a bead of his natural lubricant-it served to make him even silkier.

"From the far away look in his eyes when he talked about her, I'm sure he loves her, Scully," his words were punctuated by sharp intakes of breath as I continued to caress him.

"Then why doesn't he-" I stopped in mid-question when Mulder eased two fingers into me and gasped when his thumb brushed against my clit.

"He makes his living by trading between the Indians and white people," Mulder's breathing was so labored he could barely get more than two words out at a time, "he'd have to give that up."

His fingers were on the verge of sending me over the edge. When he withdrew his hand, I whimpered in protest.

"I want to be inside of you when you come-it feels so incredible," he explained as he gently rolled me to my back.

"Then you'd better hurry," I warned him breathlessly.

His mouth covered mine and my hands went to his hair in a vain attempt to pull him closer. When I felt his cock begin to slide into me, I moaned into his mouth. Making a growling noise at the back of his throat, he plunged his tongue deeper into my mouth. Once he was completely inside of me, he no longer took things slowly. Our foreplay had brought us so close, we shared shuddering orgasms after only a few of his powerful thrusts.

The narcotic effect of my climax, in combination with the fact that I was already very tired, made me forget the conversation we'd been having. Instead, I drifted blissfully to sleep in Mulder's arms.

Over the course of the following week Mulder learned more and more about Jack and his connection to the Fox Indians, as well as the answers to some questions that had been plaguing us. Every night, as we lay in each other's arms, Mulder would tell me what he'd learned that day.

Jack was a Sauk Indian. His people now lived in Indian Territory, which I thought was modern-day Kansas. He'd come back to Wisconsin Territory because of all of the stories his parents had told him about how beautiful it was. He'd heard rumors from other bands that there was a group of renegade Fox Indians living north of what had become Madison. Long before the Fox Indians were evicted from their land in Iowa, this band left in the dead of night and, travelling only in the dark, made their way back to Wisconsin Territory. The Indian agents never noticed the decline in numbers, or if they did it was never made public. It was Namid's grandfather that led the group back to Wisconsin and they had lived here undetected for three generations. The construction of Madison, however, was closer to their village than they were comfortable with. So they were planning to move northwest in the spring to escape discovery.

Most of the European accoutrements we'd seen at the village were a result of their dealings with Jack. He would trade their furs for things like cookware, utensils, flour and beads. This arrangement helped the Fox Indians remain hidden. They weren't the only band who traded through him. Apparently most bands found it easier to deal with him than trying to communicate in a language few could even speak.

With Jack's help, Mulder and Eben finished the store building quickly. Mr. Whitaker, the merchant who had been interested in it, agreed to Eben's price. Then Jack and Mulder made some extra money by helping Mr. Whitaker move in his stock. Jack helped all day, and Mulder helped whenever he had time away from his chores. It took two days to get it all unpacked. One of the cartons hadn't survived the journey in the wagon, and some of its contents had become damaged and weren't fit for sale, so Mr. Whitaker had given them to Mulder. It turned out to be two fancy boxes of perfumed soap. He gave them both to me, but I decided to share them with Rosaline.

After supper the very night that Mulder presented me with the soap, I decided to have a bath. Rosaline was bemused by the fact that Mulder and I bathed every other day. She and Eben only bathed on Saturday nights, but she'd said since she didn't have to carry the bath water around, it made no difference to her.

I didn't tell her that I would have preferred to bathe every day. It was a tremendous amount of work to heat up all of that water, lug it upstairs, and then carry the tub back downstairs again to dump out the water. So Mulder and I had decided every other day would have to do.

The following morning was Saturday and I felt miserable. I didn't know if I was going to be able to face the barn.

"Aren't you feeling well, Dana?" Rosaline was concerned as soon as she saw me.

"My stomach is just a little upset. I'm sure it's nothing," I assured her.

"I'll make you a piece of toast-you sit," she removed one of the stove lids.

"I'll be fine," I waved her off.

"Sit," she repeated in a firm voice.

Meekly, I sat down and waited for her to make the toast. The last thing I wanted with the way my stomach was feeling, was food. But I didn't think Rosaline would give me a choice. I was glad I hadn't voiced my doubts, because the dry toast did make me feel better and I wasn't in the mood for crow.

My stomach was fine for the rest of the day, so I assumed I'd just been over-hungry. Sunday morning, however, I was feeling just as ill. After I ate another piece of dry toast, I was fine again.

When I returned from collecting the eggs and we were making breakfast, Rosaline turned to me with a knowing smile on her face, "How far gone are you?"

"I beg your pardon," I could feel my brow furrowing.

"How far along are you?" She rephrased her question.

When I realized what she was asking, I almost told her it wasn't possible until I remembered that I still hadn't started my period. I was two and half weeks late. My hand flew to my mouth.

"I couldn't be," my voice was shaking.

"Did you think you were barren?" Her voice was gentle.

She would have assumed that Mulder and I had been married for years and I let her think that. I could only nod; I was afraid I would burst into tears if I spoke.

"God has decided to bless you," she smiled.

I nodded again, smiling this time; my eyes brimming with tears.

"Does your husband suspect?" She put a hand on my shoulder.

I shook my head.

"Will he be happy about it?"

"Oh, yes," I assured her quickly, my voice clouded with emotion, "Happier than you can possibly imagine."

When Mulder and Eben came back from the barn, Rosaline dragged her bewildered husband into the dining hall, claiming she needed his help. Mulder watched them go with a puzzled look on his face.

"What was that all about?"

"She wanted to give us a minute," I explained.

He raised his eyebrows and waited for me to continue.

"Well, I still don't quite believe it myself, but with all of the symptoms I've been having..." I couldn't actually say the words.

I watched as Mulder's expression changed from confusion to one of understanding.

"You're pregnant!" His smile lit up his face.

"I'm not positive-my period is late and my stomach has been upset, but it could be something else, Mulder. We shouldn't get our hopes up. I don't see how it could possibly be true, but..." As I was speaking, Mulder closed the distance between us, gathered me into his arms and kissed me softly.

"I guess we'll know for sure in a couple of months. As for how, I can think of some reasons why you might be suddenly fertile, Scully," he whispered.

"Aside from Omiga's potion?" I grinned.

"Yeah, aside from that," his voice was gentle, but serious. The joy drained out of me when I saw the look in his eyes. "I know you haven't thought about this, but when you had that chip put back into your neck, did it occur to you that it might heal more than your cancer?"

The idea sent a chill through me. He was right; it hadn't occurred to me and it was certainly a possibility, although I'd never been sure if it was the chip that cured my cancer. I also wasn't sure it hadn't, hence the reason it was still in my neck.

"There's another possibility I can think of." His voice had grown cold, making me fear what he was about to say.

"What is it, Mulder? It's something you don't like the thought of obviously."

"Your missing time-when you went with Spender."

His words hit me like a punch in the stomach. The thought of that man doing anything to me while I was unconscious made me nauseous. Then I recalled the strange conversation we'd had while we were driving.

"He knew I was in love with you," I'd never mentioned that aspect of the conversation to Mulder.

"He said that?" Mulder's face was a mixture of surprise and confusion. "Why would he care about that?"

"Why would he care about my fertility?" I countered.

"I don't want to think about that," his voice was hard. "I can't begin to fathom that man's motives," Mulder hugged me even harder, "but his motives are hardly relevant anymore."

The days passed into weeks; August had faded into September, and fall would officially arrive in a week. The days were still quite warm, although it did cool down at night. More and more people streamed into Madison. Jack stayed on to help Mulder and Eben expand the boarding house. They couldn't keep up with the demand, even though the Madison Hotel was now open too. A young Polish couple named Harkleroad had moved into one of the new single rooms. The woman, Anna, began to work with Rosaline and me while her husband was busy establishing his butcher shop. Even with Anna's help we were having a hard time keeping up with all of the work.

Over time it had become very apparent that I was indeed pregnant. To Mulder's delight my breasts had gotten bigger. They were a little tender, but when he gently squeezed and caressed them, the tenderness would disappear. My morning queasiness continued, but a piece of dry toast right away seemed to keep it at bay. Any time that I had to think was spent on what life was going to be like for our little family. I'd been very happy living with Namid's tribe. Here, we were so busy, I had little time to think about whether I was happy or not.

It wasn't that life was easy in the village, but it was certainly easier. I definitely felt a stronger connection to those people than I felt here. I couldn't help remembering Hillary Clinton's book called 'It Takes a Village to Raise a Child'. When I first heard that, I'd thought it was sort of naive. After seeing the way everyone helped with the children, I couldn't help thinking Namid's village would be a better environment for Mulder and me to raise our child.

Mulder was shocked, to say the least, when I finally told him what I was thinking. "You want to go back?" He repeated my words.

"I do. I was happier there, weren't you?"

"Yes, but what about the baby?"

"What about it? There are far more experienced midwives there, and I do know I thing or two myself. Shall I mention Omiga?" I'd anticipated his concerns, so I was prepared.

"Okay, I'll give you that, but I don't like the idea of having you live in a wigwam all winter when you're pregnant," he voiced his concerns.

"The women in the village seem to manage just fine and..." I held up my hand to stop him from interrupting. "If you're that worried, couldn't you and Jack build a small log house for us? You know how now, right?"

"How long have you been thinking about this?"

"A while," I shrugged.

"So it seems," he chuckled. "What about Rosaline and Eben?"

"I've thought about that too. I'm sure they won't understand, but we wouldn't be leaving them short. Eben is finished the building he wanted to do this year, and Rosaline will have Anna's help."

"There *are* new people showing up every day, so there will be no shortage of people looking for work. I heard that there are almost 600 people living here now."

"So we can go?" I tried to reign in my glee.

"I'll talk to Jack. If he agrees to come with us to help build a house, we can go. Okay?" he consented.

"Okay," I nodded.

Mulder later told me Jack had agreed immediately. He'd been planning to leave soon to take winter supplies to the village anyway.

"Jack also said I would need a gun," he informed me somberly.

"Why? We managed without one before," I contradicted.

"We'll need it to protect ourselves from bears and panthers. We'll -"

"Panthers?" I interrupted. "You must be joking."

"Nope. Apparently the woods are full of them and if they're hungry, they have no compunctions about going after humans, especially children," his voice was ominous.

"Oh," I sat down limply on the bed. I'd been pacing around the room as I waited to hear what Mulder had to say.

"And we'll need it for food. We'll need fresh meat in the winter. We can't expect Namid's band to support us and I certainly won't be able to do it with a bow and arrow," he pointed out.

"So that's it," I felt tears welling up in my eyes. "We can't afford a gun."

"Slow down, Scully," Mulder sat down beside me and pulled me onto his lap. "We can still go. I think we'll be able to afford everything in two weeks."

"Two weeks?" I sniffed and blinked rapidly.

"I talked to Whitaker and he's agreed to sell me a Hawken's rifle for what it would cost me in St. Louis - twenty-five dollars," Mulder began to explain.

"Twenty-five dollars!" my jaw dropped. "That's almost all of our money."

"I know. And it'll cost me another five for the powder, bullet mold and the other accessories I'll need."

"Then how can we possibly afford to go?" I slumped against him with a sigh.

"It won't be easy," he gave me a squeeze, "but I think we can do it."

"How?" I was at a loss. "I've only saved a dollar from doing laundry on the side."

"I've never mentioned it to you before, but quite a few of the men have asked me if you'd be willing to do some sewing for them. I told them you didn't have time. We'll need to buy needles and thread anyway, so I thought maybe in the evenings you could do that. It would cost them a dollar to buy a shirt at Whitaker's. If you charge them 25 cents to fix their shirts, we'd be able to make quite a bit of money."

"25 cents! That's highway robbery, Mulder. I know for a fact that the fabric is only about 5 cents a yard. It would only cost about 10 cents to make a whole new shirt," I was flabbergasted. "True, but who's going to do the sewing? There aren't enough women here. It's cheaper than buying a new one at Whitaker's. I also told them the shirts would have to be clean before you'd work on them," he winked at me.

I couldn't stand to be near most of the men. Even Mulder reeked before he used the washstand in our room. Rosaline and I hated washing the men's shirts, but we knew at least they'd smell better for a day or two.

"So I'll be making money there too?" I chuckled.

"That's the general idea," he smiled.

"That still doesn't seem like it would be enough money for everything we need," I chewed on my lip.

"I'm going to be doing some work in the evenings too," Mulder raised his eyebrows at me. "Whitaker wants me to build some inside walls and seal the outside walls and the roof. He won't have time before it snows."

"We'll never see each other," I complained. "Maybe we shouldn't do this."

"It'll only take two weeks, Scully. My work with Whitaker will buy all of our essentials. I'm working in trade. He's happy with that. The supplies cost him far less then he's selling them for and he can't get anyone else to help him right now. Everyone is too busy working on the capital. With the money you make, we can buys ourselves some frills," he grinned. "I think you're right. We'll work ourselves to death, just to scrape by here. If two weeks of working from dawn to dusk will get us out of here, I say we should do it," his eyes were shining.

"I love you," I hugged him tightly.

Initially I thought that Mulder was against this idea, but now he seemed to be as excited as I was. With all of the work we were doing, the time practically flew by. Over the next two weeks Mulder bought everything we thought we would need; tools to build the house, blankets, flour, cornmeal, salt pork, sugar, dried fruit, baking soda, cream of tartar, dried beans, candles, and matches. Although it would be heavy to haul, Mulder and I agreed that we would need a washtub. I also reminded him to get some fabric for baby clothes and diapers, knitting needles and wool. We got lye soap for the clothes and plain soap for us-the flowery soap was nice, but it would be impractical in our new home.

We still had the cooking pots and utensils from our trip down, but Mulder bought some plates and cutlery, and utensils like scissors and a whisk. I also asked him to buy some paper and pen and ink; I had decided to start keeping a diary. Fortunately for us, Reverend Foster had received another missionary barrel and Mulder and I were able to find winter coats that fit us. If the good Reverend hadn't taken us under his wing, we would have had to spend an enormous amount of money on coats.

In the tiny amount of spare time I had left, I worked furiously knitting hats, mittens and scarves. With some of our extra cash, Mulder bought a ladies' magazine from Mr. Whitaker that had patterns in it - otherwise I would have been lost.

On the Saturday before we were about to go, it suddenly occurred to me that we needed to bring gifts back with us. When Mulder came back for lunch I wrote out a list for him. It was a good thing he'd suggested that we do the extra work, because we spent every last penny.

Jack stashed everything in the hayloft. If Eben happened to stumble across it, he would say that it was the supplies he was planning to trade with the Indians.

Since we'd decided to leave very early on the morning of October 23, Jack and Mulder spent all of their spare time on Sunday out in the woods building two travois-Jack already had one of his own. After supper Jack went back and retrieved them, and after we'd gone upstairs Jack would pack them. We were all going to be carrying backpacks, too. I was going to carry the fabric and the blankets, and some of the food. Mulder and Jack were going to splitthe heavier things between them.

It had taken me two days of arguing to talk Mulder into agreeing to let me pull a travois. He'd even been hesitant to let me carry a backpack, but I'd managed to convince him that pregnant did not mean sick and this would probably be easier than the work I'd been doing with Rosaline.

Before we went to sleep, I decided to write Rosaline a letter. Strangely enough, I wasn't even sure if she could read, but I couldn't leave without saying anything. I thanked her for everything she'd done for Mulder and me, but told her that we'd decided to return to Chicago. I explained that since we'd managed to conceive a child, I wanted to be able to share it with my family and I hadn't told her because I didn't want her to try to talk me out of it.

In the stillness of the very early morning, Jack sneaked up to our room and woke us. He left us to let us dress and we changed back into our deerskin clothes. I made the bed and left the note for Rosaline on the washstand. After creeping down the stairs, we quietly left the boarding house.

Jack was waiting for us outside with the packs and travois. We shrugged into the packs quickly and wordlessly. It wasn't until we'd crossed that first bridge that brought us into Madison that we finally spoke.

"I see you're wearing the vest Namid gave you," Jack was the first to speak. "He told me about that."

"I was very honored," Mulder told him earnestly.

"You should be," Jack nodded. "Until now, that vest has only been worn by the chiefs of Namid's tribe. His great-grandfather was the first to wear it."

"What do the stars mean?" Mulder inquired.

"They represent the starlit journey the Fox Indians took from Iowa back to here. The vest was made when they got back here, to commemorate that journey."

Since we were all dragging travois, I didn't have to worry about the pace. We stopped early on the first day because of the time that we'd left, but after that we walked as long as the sun shone. As we got closer to the village, I grew more and more excited. I was more sure than ever I'd made the right decision. I couldn't wait to see Omiga and Wanik, and Namid and Migisi and all of the other friends we'd made.

Since the journey to Madison had taken 5 days, we thought it would take six to get back, taking into account Apram's original pace and our heavier load. But by late afternoon on the sixth day, we'd only made it back to the spot where Mulder and I had built the lean-to.

I could barely get to sleep that night, as exhausted as I was, knowing that we'd make it to the village the next day. We left as soon as the sun was up, having only some leftover bannock for breakfast. Jack seemed as anxious as Mulder and I were about getting back to the village. I guessed that he was anxious to see Wanik. When we'd left Madison the forest had been alight with fall colors. Now the brilliant reds and oranges were beginning to fade, giving the woods a washed out look.

"Do you know the name of this river?" Jack made conversation as we walked.

"No," Mulder and I answered together.

"It's called the Fox River...even the white men call it that," Jack's voice seemed a little distant. "Even they know who's home it really is."

Neither of us said anything. What could we say? Our opinions would change nothing. Our opinions would not change the fact that in less than 50 years Wisconsin would no longer be the frontier. In 50 years people would be leaving Wisconsin to go even further west, forcing the already displaced natives to live in the most inhospitable parts of the country.

It wasn't long before I knew we were getting close to the village. The landmarks were so familiar it felt like I was going home. My heart began to swell with delight. I could barely contain my excitement. When we got to the last corner, I was surprised that I couldn't smell any smoke or hear any voices.

I knew something was wrong when Jack dropped his travois with a thud. He turned back to look at Mulder, his eyes wide and still. I was still a few feet behind them and I couldn't see past them.

"What's wrong?" I set my travois down and ran to Mulder's side.

When I looked into the clearing, I gasped and tears began to fill my eyes immediately. It was completely empty. All that remained was the worn ground and the blackened circles from the fires.

End chapter 8


	10. Chapter 9

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 9

I found myself slowly sinking to the ground. My legs crumpled beneath me and I brought my callused hands to my face. We had worked so hard to get back here and they were gone. I wasn't crying, it was worse than that. It felt like someone had taken hold my heart and was squeezing it. When I felt Mulder's hand on my shoulder I dropped my hands to look at him. I was surprised to find that both he and Jack had crouched down beside me.

"It just means more walking, Dana, that's all," Jack's voice was earnest.

"What do you mean," I looked first at Jack and then at Mulder in confusion.

"I don't think she heard you," Mulder began to rub my arm gently.

"They've moved early," Jack smiled. "They were going to move in the spring, but I guess they thought it might be safer to go now."

"But how will we find them?" I wasn't consoled in the least.

"This new place, it was me that told them about it, so I know exactly where it is," Jack's smile broadened into a very toothy grin.

"You do?" my legs seemed to have regained their strength and I practically leapt to me feet. "How far is it?"

"About another four days," he shrugged as he got to his feet. "Far enough, but not too far."

Even though we were seven days out of Madison, another four days seemed almost too much too bear. I'd prepared myself for this trek, but I wasn't sure that I could face four more days of hauling this travois.

"It's probably a good thing that they moved now," Mulder took advantage of the break to stretch his back. I couldn't stop myself from watching his muscles as they moved over his frame. His skin had grown quite dark over the summer and he barely had an ounce of body fat to his name. He didn't looked like a bodybuilder though - his muscles were long and they rippled under his skin when he moved. "Don't you think?" I heard him finish.

"Pardon?" I looked up and smiled.

"I said, it would have been worse if we'd built a house here, and then they'd moved in the spring," he looked a me a little quizzically. "Are you tired?"

"Tired?" I repeated. "No."

"Is something wrong?" he took a step toward me, cocking his head to look at me.

"Nope," I smiled.

"Are we going to keep moving?" Jack seemed anxious to get going.

"Yup, I'm ready," I turned to retrieve my travois. "Who wouldn't be ready after seven days of looking at that ass?" I muttered as I went.

When I turned around to pick up my travois I found Mulder standing right where I'd left him. From the grin on his face and the gleam in his eyes, I assumed that he'd heard my comment.

"Only four more days, Scully," he winked at me.

"It won't be so bad," Jack was oblivious to what we were really talking about. "At least it's cool and there are no flies."

I pasted a smile on my face, picked up my travois and fell into my place at the end of our tiny train. I knew it would be pointless to try to explain it to Mulder, mostly because there was nothing he could do about it, but partly because I didn't want him to know how much I lusted after him. He had an inkling already, and that made him insufferable at times. There were some things he simply didn't need to know.

I couldn't even imagine how huge his ego would get if I'd told him what had happened to me yesterday. We had stopped to take a short break, and even though the weather was cool, we all had worked up a sweat. To cool himself off, Mulder had taken off his shirt and his vest. Squatting by the stream, he'd rinsed out his shirt and then threw on top off his travois. Still shirtless, he'd begun to splash water onto himself. The sunlight sparkled off of the water droplets that had beaded on his superbly-muscled chest.

As I sat watching him, my mouth had begun to water. If Jack hadn't been there I would have tackled him and had my fill of water right off his chest. And my mouth wasn't the only thing that had become moist. That was one of the many benefits of being a woman - no embarrassing bulges.

That was only one of the problems I was having with our abstinence. Mulder had been very concerned about how difficult this trip would be on me. His way of dealing with it was to make sure every night he massaged at least my back, if not my feet as well. A back rub when one is having regular sex is simply another way of expressing care and concern. When you've be celibate for over a week due to nothing more than the sleeping arrangements, a back rub becomes slow torture.

Mulder's hands had a way of turning me into a quivering mass of goo at the best of times. When I was starved for his attention, his nightly massages practically turned me into a steaming puddle of primordial ooze. I'd managed to console myself with the knowledge that once we got back to the village, I'd have more time alone with Mulder in one night than I'd had in the last month in Madison. Now I was going to have to wait another four days before I'd be able to get my hands on him.

Even though I knew that with every step we were getting closer to the village, those four days seemed twice as long as the first seven. Watching Mulder in front of me every day was torment enough, but then I started having dreams every night. They'd usually start with us ripping each other's clothes off, but before we got to the good stuff we'd be interrupted. The first night Skinner walked into our basement office, catching us naked. Another night the Gunmen walked into Mulder's apartment. Once it was Rosaline and Eben, discovering us in the hayloft. My final dream featured my parents surprising me at my apartment - except the surprise ended up being theirs.

In spite of how cold it got each night, I woke every morning damp with sweat, and usually draped over Mulder. I knew that it was just as difficult for him. When we crawled under our blanket at night and he pulled me close, I could feel his erection grow and throb against me through my deerskin dress. We didn't dare discuss it, but he must have been going through the same living hell that I was.

When the sun was low in the western sky on our eleventh day out of Madison I began to worry that Jack had underestimated how far away the new village was. It also seemed to me that he'd picked up our pace. Normally he would stop a couple of times after lunch so we could rest or have a drink, but he'd been pushing hard all afternoon. It made me wonder if we hadn't made it as far as he'd hoped, but I was afraid to ask because I didn't want to know the answer.

I was about to break down and tell Jack that I needed to stop for some water when a loud noise in the trees to our left startled me.

"Elan!" I heard a voice call out. It was followed by the familiar lilt of the language of Namid's band. I was immediately awash with relief. I dropped my travois where I stood. If we were close enough to the village for the scout to be there, Mulder could come back and get it himself. I was ready to admit that I was tired of dragging it.

"Wapi!" Jack's face lit up. He began to speak quickly in Mesquakie. I suddenly realized how fantastic it was going to be to have someone who could translate for us.

"Day-na! Mulder!" Wapi greeted us by giving us a slap on the arm. He and Jack continued to speak rapidly. I could tell that Wapi had a lot of questions.

I was surprised that it was Wapi who greeted us. I was almost expecting Nawkaw to be tugging at my hair again. Wapi had been learning how to make a bow and take care of it from one of the elders before we left. I remember him proudly dragging Mulder off to watch his target practice.

"Where's Nawkaw?" Mulder voiced my question.

Jack turned to Wapi to ask our question. While they were discussing it, I was surprised that Wapi walked over to me and picked up my travois. I could only assume that Jack told him to.

"Nawkaw is in the hunting party now," Jack explained as we started to walk again. "Wapi is very excited because he thinks it means that it won't be long before he'll be allowed to go with the men."

"What did he call you?" I was curious.

"Oh," Jack smiled. "Elan - my Indian name."

Of course, I thought to myself. Jack must have a traditional name. It just hadn't occurred to me before. We followed behind Wapi and Jack as they continued to talk in excited voices. Jack turned his head slightly to explain that Namid's band had moved early because they'd begun to hear the guns of white hunters in the distance that fall.

"They won't mind that I brought a gun, will they? Mulder's eyes grew wide.

"No," Jack laughed. "But they probably will want to try it. It wasn't the guns that worried them, but who was carrying them."

"That's a relief," Mulder sighed with a laugh. "And I'll be more than happy to let people try it out after you show me how to use it, Jack."

"You don't know how to shoot?" Jack turned to look at him in surprise.

"Not a gun like this one," Mulder shrugged.

"What kinds of guns have you used?" Jack was curious.

Wapi watched both of them with interest, but asked no questions even though I was sure he had no idea what they were discussing.

"Much smaller guns," Mulder told a white lie. The truth was that neither of us had ever fired a gun that had as much recoil as I expected this one to have.

"Do you mean pistols?"

"Yeah," Mulder nodded.

"If you're used to a pistol that rifle will knock you off your feet," Jack chortled.

"That's what I'm afraid..." Mulder began, but as he was speaking the trees suddenly began to thin out and a vast lake of glimmering blue water spread out before us. It was large enough that some of the waves had white caps. About 200 yards north of where we were standing I could see the familiar wigwams of the village we'd first stumbled across on the Fox River. They were laid out in exactly the same way they had before.

"It's so beautiful here," I sighed.

"And not so cold on this side of the lake - the winds come from the west. There will be a lot more snow on the eastern shore come winter. And this lake has lots of trout and there's plenty of game around here." It sounded like he was trying to convince us that it would be as good as the old village.

"What's this lake called?" Mulder wondered, squinting out at the water.

"I don't know," Jack shrugged. "I just knew where it was."

"It's not Lake Superior, is it?" Mulder turned to look at him.

"Lake Superior?" Jack laughed. "Heck, no. That's still another good 15 days walk north of here. I wouldn't want to live beside Gitche Gumee, anyway. It's too cold," he added. " And we wouldn't be able to see the other side" he pointed out with a wink.

"I thought we might be at the western end, where it's narrow," Mulder defended his question.

"Come on, you two," I tugged on Mulder's arm. "I can't wait to see everyone - let's go."

As we were trudging toward the camp someone must have seen us, because we heard several shouts and a stream of people began heading straight for us. When we met the throng there was a huge commotion. People were talking and laughing. I was being hugged to within an inch of life, but I could barely remember a happier moment. Mulder and Jack were liberated of their travois and we were almost dragged toward the village.

As we began walking again, I could tell that the circle of excited people surrounding us was asking Jack so many questions that he was becoming overwhelmed. Finally he said something in a loud voice that quieted everyone immediately.

"I told them that I'd tell our story after we had full bellies," he winked. "I told them you might have brought a few things from town, too."

Once we were in the encampment proper, I happily doffed my backpack and then we settled down by the central fire. The coolness of the early November afternoon was quickly offset by the large fire. While we'd been walking, I hadn't really noticed the temperature. We'd been working far too hard. It had been cool at night, but I hadn't noticed the chill in the air during the day until now.

Wanik brought over bowls of stew. Her face was beaming as she sat down beside Jack and I was sure I saw the sparkle of a tear on her cheek. I knew exactly how she felt. Every time Mulder had disappeared for days on end, I'd wanted to cry with joy when he came back to me.

As soon as Jack finished his stew he began to speak in a singsong way I'd never heard before. Even though I couldn't understand what he was saying, the rise and fall of his voice was very hypnotic. I was happy to see Omiga's wrinkled face and Namid's stern but proud countenance in the group. When he finally fell silent a few more questions were asked and answered.

"I think I've told them everything," he turned to us at last. "They know you want to build a cabin and stay here."

"So it's okay?" I wasn't sure how the news had been taken. Everyone looked so serious when they were listening to Jack.

"Of course," Jack looked puzzled. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"They don't think it's strange that we want to come back and live here?" I was curious.

"No, there's always been tales of white people choosing to live with Indians," he shrugged. "Besides, Namid says he knew you'd be back," he informed us with a wink. " And you can use my wigwam until your cabin is built," he finished with a grin.

"But where will you sleep?" I didn't want to put Jack out of bed. "Omiga has a large wigwam. He said I could stay with him," he reassured me. "Let's get your stuff over there now and then I'll unload my travois."

Jack turned back to the small crowd and said a few words. Almost instantly our travois and packs were being taken to a familiar wigwam. It suddenly became clear to me why there had been a spare one for us all those weeks ago. We had been sleeping in Jack's bed then as well.

The inside of the wigwam wasn't large enough to hold everything we'd brought, so we only took the packs inside. Mulder did bring in the small crate of salt pork in case in attracted animals. Since the travois were cover with canvas, they would be safe from the elements until the cabin was built. The only other things we took out were the gifts we'd brought. Mulder loaded them all into a blanket and hauled it back to the fire, looking like a native Saint Nick.

Jack was nowhere to be seen when Mulder sat down at the fire. It didn't take long for almost everyone else to notice that he was sorting out various goodies in front of him. It was only then that I realized how much we'd brought. There were 4 boys between 9 and 11 in the camp. They were the first to eagerly kneel beside the blanket. They immediately tried to grab for the large hunting knives we'd bought, but Mulder put a stop to that. Instead he handed them each a small knife that came with a leather sheath. They were a little disappointed, but then one of the women said something, making them smile guiltily at us and then dash off with their gifts. We'd brought rag dolls, clay marbles, carved animals and candy for the other children. It didn't take long for the toys and candy to be snatched up and the children quickly dispersed.

The women, who had been standing back while the children received their gifts, only moved a little bit closer once the children were gone. I could see their eyes roaming over the needles, colored thread and ribbons that I'd had Mulder buy and they were murmuring to each other. When I waved them closer, they looked at me like they weren't sure if they could take anything. As soon as I smiled and nodded yes, they knelt down and began to examine everything more closely. When they got up to leave I noticed that they hadn't taken the scissors, brush and comb or the tea. When I showed then what the scissors did, their smiles widened and Abequa, the woman who'd made Mulder's moccasins, took them, murmuring something to me.

Even though I'd showed them the brush, no one seemed to want it. When I held it toward them, they began to talk among themselves and then Migisi nodded and took it from me. That still left the tea, but I decided to wait and let Jack explain it. Now the only gifts that were left were the ones that Mulder and Jack had picked out for the men. They consisted mainly of pipe tobacco, hunting knives and a hatchet. The men had been much harder to buy for. Everything that would have been any use to them was very expensive. Even though we'd bought fewer things in total, their gifts cost as much as the gifts for the women and children combined. If there hadn't be so many men with ragged shirts in Madison we never would have been able afford this much.

I was quite surprised when there was more excitement generated by the tobacco than anything else, making me wish we'd bought more. There seemed to be a tacit agreement amongst the men that Namid would get the hatchet, because they passed over it and began to have a serious discussion about the hunting knives. There were only three of them and they were passed around, tested for sharpness and balance and then placed back on the blanket. That was followed by more discussion, and I'm not sure how it was decided, but the knives were then handed out and all of the men seemed happy. The only thing left on the blanket when Jack reappeared was the cheesecloth I'd brought for Omiga and the tea.

"Everyone is talking about what you brought. It was far more than anyone expected when I mentioned the gifts. Wanik loves the brush you gave her. She says it goes through her hair like water," he was beaming.

It hadn't occurred to me that Migisi was going to give the brush to Wanik. I'd brought something special for her - a silver thimble that I'd planned to give her in private. Wanik loved to do embroidery and beadwork and I thought the thimble would save her fingers from the ravages of 19th century needles.

"I'm glad she likes it," I smiled.

"What do you have left here?" he looked down at blanket. "Not much," he chuckled.

"Well, I brought tea for the women, but I don't think they knew what it was," I pointed to the brown paper package.

"I'll tell them," he picked it up.

"Have you seen Omiga?" I asked. "I brought him this for him," I held up the cheesecloth.

"What is it?" Jack furrowed his brow.

"It's for his poultices," I unfolded a bit of it to show him.

"His what?"

I explained by telling him about what Omiga had done for my feet when we first arrived. Then I told him how the cheesecloth would work better than the deerskin for holding his remedies.

"I'll have to explain it to him when he gets back. He left camp about an hour ago - I haven't seen him since," Jack shrugged, and then sat down in front of the blanket. "We are going to have to start working on the house first thing tomorrow," he changed the subject quickly. "I have a feeling it won't be long until the snow flies. The nights have been getting colder."

"How long will it take to build it?" I asked, looking first to Jack and to Mulder.

"Not long," Jack spoke first. "The part that will take the longest is cutting down the trees - we only have two axes. I've been talking to Namid about getting help. The next hunting party isn't going out for a couple of weeks. They have dried a lot of meat already and there is always fish for fresh meat if we need it. He wants to wait for a freeze before they go out again so they can make one trip and then the meat won't spoil."

"That's great," Mulder looked thrilled. "I hadn't expected any help, so I thought it was going to take about a month."

"Nah," Jack said with a wave of his hand. "Once we have the logs, it should only take a couple of days."

"A couple of days!" I think my jaw dropped.

"Well, not including the fireplace - that will take another day or two. The women are going to collect the rocks while we're cutting and a couple of the younger men will get the clay for us. The sandy soil here by the lake wouldn't hold - and we'll need the clay for chinking too," Jack seemed to have the whole thing planned out.

"Chinking?" I repeated.

"Yeah," he nodded. "You put it in between the logs to keep the wind out. If we mix it with some grass it shouldn't fall out when the logs shrink."

"I don't know what we would have done without you, Jack," Mulder shook his head in awe. "Which reminds me - wait here," he jumped up and ran toward our wigwam.

Jack looked at me for an answer, but I could only shrug. Mulder backed out of the wigwam quickly, but in the afternoon light was fading I couldn't tell what he was carrying. When he got closer to the fire I could see that he had a brown paper bag, and two boxes; one larger flat one and a smaller rectangular one. He handed all three to Jack with a smile.

Jack opened the flat box first and I could smell what it was right away.

"Cigars!" Jack's face lit up.

"I saw you debating about buying them," Mulder grinned.

"Wanik doesn't like them," he smiled shyly.

"Oh," Mulder's face fell.

"Don't worry, she won't complain about these - they're a gift. That would be rude," he sounded positively joyous.

"As long as she won't be mad at me," Mulder chuckled a little uneasily.

"It would take a lot more than a few cigars to get Wanik mad at either you or Day-na, Mulder. She was so happy that you came back," Jack assured him.

Mulder let out a sigh of relief making Jack smile as he turned to the other packages. The brown paper bag held ground coffee. Jack loved coffee and savored it over his breakfast every morning. We had to surreptitiously grind the beans with Rosaline's grinder because we knew we wouldn't be able to grind them here. When he discovered the coffee, he held the bag to his nose and inhaled deeply.

"Will you teach Wanik how to make it?" he looked at me hopefully.

"Of course," I smiled.

The small rectangular box held a deck of cards.

"But who will I play with?" he laughed when he opened them.

"I'm sure there'll be lots of long winter days when Dana and I would love to play cards. I can even teach you some games you can play by yourself," Mulder sounded pleased with himself.

"By myself," Jack was incredulous.

"Yeah," Mulder laughed and was taking a breath to explain when Omiga appeared in our circle of firelight holding a familiar wooden bowl.

End chapter 9


	11. Chapter 10

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 10

I shuddered at the sight of the bowl in Omiga's hands, wondering what kind of concoction he'd brewed for me this time. After taking in my reaction he turned and said something to Jack.

"Omiga says this is good for your baby - especially after your long walk," Jack tried unsuccessfully to hide his smile.

"Did you tell him that I was pregnant?" I looked at Jack in surprise.

Jack's eyes widened at my question, but he shook his head. "I didn't know until right now."

"Then how did he know?" I turned to Mulder. "Did you tell him?"

"Exactly how and when would I have told him, Scully?" Mulder sounded indignant.

"But then how does he know?" I furrowed my brow. "Would you please ask him, Jack?"

When Jack began to speak, Omiga actually chuckled and then shook his head as he gave a longer answer than I'd expected.

"He said that is something that he is teaching Nibaw. Nibaw will be the medicine man when Omiga dies," Jack informed us bluntly.

I knew Nibaw worked with Omiga, but I hadn't realized that he was an apprentice. I'd thought he was more of a gopher, but I said nothing, choosing to simply nod as Jack continued to explain.

"He never thought of teaching a woman the things he knows, but he does think that you might be special, Day-na. He says if you want to learn, he will teach you."

"Well, I'm not sure how much time I'll have and the language barrier will present a definite -"

"Tell him she says yes," Mulder interrupted me.

"I was going to say yes," I lowered my voice as Jack spoke to Omiga.

"Omiga says that whenever he is gathering or preparing something he'll see if you have time," Jack grinned at us. "And he also says that he needs his bowl back, so hurry up."

I was laughing as I brought the bowl to my lips and had to pause to take a breath before I could swallow. Omiga's maternity drink had almost no taste to it - only a slightly bitter aftertaste. As soon as I'd handed the empty bowl back to him, Omiga spoke sternly to me, then turned and ambled back toward his wigwam.

"Did I do something wrong?" I felt like I'd been chastised.

"No," Jack laughed. "He just wants you to get some sleep. And I think I should be doing the same thing," he couldn't stifle a yawn. "It's been a tiring day and tomorrow will be a busy day."

"Yeah, I guess we should rest up," Mulder agreed. "I have a feeling the next few days will prove to be more tiring than our trip." I heard a hint of dejection in his voice.

"Are you wishing we hadn't come?" I asked when Jack had left.

"God no, Scully," he assured me quickly. "The first week or two will be hard, but it will be better than having you working yourself to death for those men. Once we're settled things should be much easier. That reminds me of a proverb my mother used all the time..."

"Hard work is its own reward?" I tried to be helpful.

"That's it," he chuckled. "I'll probably be asking you to remind me of that about this time tomorrow," his tone was wry as he stood up. "I think we should take Omiga's advice and get some sleep." He extended his hand to help me up.

"It's not that late," I argued. "The sun has only just set."

"Aren't you tired?" he looked surprised.

"I guess, but I feel more filthy than tired. I need a bath," I explained.

"The water in the lake is pretty frigid, Scully," he graciously pointed out.

"Not once it's heated up," I was afraid to meet his eyes.

"I see," I could hear mirth in his voice.

"You could use a bath, too," I noted, looking up at him quickly.

"Do I at least get to watch you?" he waggled his eyebrows at me in the firelight.

"I'd be hurt if you didn't," I smiled up at him with no shame and watched as his eyes darkened. He took a step toward me and began to wrap his arms around me.

"Bath first," I put a hand on his chest.

"Right," he grumbled, letting go of me. I could still hear him muttering as he walked to our wigwam.

Even using our largest pot it was going to take a while to heat up enough water for the tub that was going to double as our laundry tub. While Mulder looked after heating up the water on the large central fire, I made a fire pit close to our wigwam. We were no longer guests, and I would have to handle our cooking on my own.

We'd been spoiled having eggs for breakfast every morning in Madison. From now on it would have to be porridge. On the days that Mulder was going to be doing heavy work I would have to fry up the salt pork at breakfast. He was going to need the added protein. When Rosaline had first mentioned salt pork, I wasn't sure what she was talking about. It turned out to be very similar to Canadian bacon.

"Are there any nuts in these woods?" I asked my own personal Indian guide when he brought the first steaming pot of water over to the wigwam.

"Besides you and me, I don't think so, Scully. Not the right kind of trees," he explained as he stooped to go inside. "Why?" he raised his voice so I could hear him over the water he was pouring. I'd set the tub in the middle of the shelter, pushing our bed to one side.

"I was just thinking about extra protein," I shrugged as he crouched out of the door again.

"Don't you think you're getting enough?" I could hear the worry in his voice even though it was too dark to see his face.

"I'm fine, Mulder. I was thinking about you and what you're going to be putting your muscles through. A high protein diet will help those muscles rebuild themselves," I explained.

"We have plenty of protein, Dr. Scully," he squatted down beside me at the tiny fire I'd built to christen my fire pit. "And we can get more whenever we need it," he leaned in to press a bristly kiss against my lips. He hadn't shaved since we left Madison and it would probably be a while before he had would have time. I knew he wouldn't keep the beard for long, though. He complained that it made his face itchy.

"The kind of protein we can get here doesn't go well with oatmeal," I reminded him.

"I'm sure I'll be fine," he kissed me again. "And I promise to eat lots of protein at lunch and dinner."

"Speaking of which," I segued. "I don't have any meat to make stew with - or wild rice," I hated to bring it up. It seemed like one more hurdle to things working out smoothly for us.

"I'll talk to Jack. I'm sure we can get enough to last until the cabin is finished. When I go hunting I'll be able to bring back more than enough meat to make up for what we've borrowed," he assured me. "Okay?"

"I guess," I sighed. "I just hate to be beholden."

"It'll only be for a little while, Scully. Soon we'll be able to provide for ourselves and contribute to the tribe too. I'm sure everyone understands that," he stroked my cheek. "Now let me get back to heating up that water or we'll never get to bed."

In the end I had to make do with tepid water. It was better than nothing and filling the tub with entirely hot water would have taken far too long. While Mulder had finished heating the water I'd pulled out some soap, a wash cloth and two of the six towels we'd brought. Six was a bit of luxury, but I couldn't face washing towels every day, especially once the baby came.

I was surprised when Mulder left the wigwam as I began to undress. I could hear him rummaging around in one of the travois, but I had no idea what I might have forgotten to bring in. I got my answer when Mulder pushed aside the deerskin door. The wigwam was suddenly bathed in light. He was carrying two candles in shiny tin reflectors. He hung them on the side of the wigwam as I sank into the lukewarm water.

"Are you sure you want to use this water when I'm done with it?" I wrinkled up my nose. "I can smell how badly I need this bath."

"I remember the one and only time you ever smelled bad, Scully," he chuckled. "And even if you did smell bad, I still wouldn't lug any more water around." He had settled down into the tumble of blankets to watch me.

I began with my feet, sticking one out of the water at a time. As I started to wash my legs, I discovered, to my dismay, that they were positively fuzzy. When we were in Madison, Mulder had a bought a razor and I'd had the luxury of shaving twice a week. Using a straight razor was frightening at first, but I got over it quickly. Having a full head of hair meant that other parts of me were furry too, so I conquered my fears quickly. It had been almost two weeks now since I'd shaved and I shuddered to imagine the state of my underarms. Unfortunately I didn't have time to take care of it now, and even if I did, I had no idea where find the razor. If Mulder minded that I got a little hairy, he said nothing. When we first got here it was almost three weeks before I shaved and when I finally did he was questioning why I was so long in the tub. He was in bed, waiting to make love.

I worked my way quickly up my the rest of my body. I would have loved to linger, but there would be time for that once everything had settled down. And if I soaked too long, the water would be too cold for Mulder. When I stood up and reached for my towel Mulder looked disappointed.

"Done already?"

"The water is cooling off quickly," I explained.

"Don't worry about me," he waved his hand. "I'll have a bath tomorrow. I enjoy watching you, Scully."

"Mulder, I have plans for you tonight, and, well, I have another proverb for you. Cleanliness is next to sexiness," I grinned at him as I stepped out of the tub.

"Funny," Mulder chuckled as he slipped off his vest. "That's not how I remember that proverb."

While I dried myself off, Mulder stripped and stepped into the water. I hadn't really noticed that our washtub was smaller than Rosaline's until Mulder tried to sit down. I'd had no problem sitting cross-legged, but Mulder's knees ended up in his armpits. I couldn't help chortling at his predicament. He, however, did not look amused.

"I guess that's not going to work, is it?" I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing.

"Uh - no," he grumbled, trying to untangle his long limbs so that he could stand up.

"I think I have an idea," I reached for the soap and the wash cloth. "Can you get to your feet?"

"I think so," he used his arms to lift himself out of the water until there was enough room to get his feet underneath him.

"Just stand there," I smiled as I dunked the wash cloth in the water. Once it was wet, I soaped it up and then began to lather his chest.

"This isn't so bad," he grinned at me.

"Lift up your arms," I instructed. I wanted to make sure he was completely clean. He simply obeyed, still smiling broadly. When I bent to rinse the cloth off I discovered that Mulder was really enjoying my attention. Saying nothing, I straightened up to rinse him off.

"Turn around." I decided that it would be better to finish his back first. That way I wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. I washed and rinsed him off quickly, as I had myself.

"Are you getting cold?" I asked as I tugged on his arm to turn him around again.

"Not a all," he answered in a raspy voice.

When he had turned completely around, I found that his enjoyment was now full-blown. Still making no mention of the fact that he was making it easy for me to wash all of him, I went about washing his abdomen. When I was done, I began to carefully soap up his penis. He groaned so loudly that I doubt he was able to hear mine. I loved how hot and hard he felt in my hand. Once I'd rinsed him off, I gently washed his testicles. When I bent to wash his legs, I made sure that my hair brushed against him. I felt a rush of heat in my belly when he groaned again at the contact.

Making quick work of his legs, I knelt down in front him and took his thick cock into my hand again. When I looked up at him, I found that his heavy lids could not mask the way his eyes were burning. His chest was rising and falling quickly and his full lips were parted as if he needed them open to get more air.

When I leaned forward and took him into my mouth, he growled my name, creating a fresh wave of heat, this time between my legs. Mulder's hand found its way into my hair as I began to run my tongue along the underside of his head. He shuddered when I took more of him into my mouth and began to caress his balls.

"Scully," he voice was awe-filled. "This feels so good."

"Mmm," was all I could answer as I let his cock slide almost all the way out of my mouth, swirling my tongue as I went.

"I missed you so much," his voice was shaky. "I love the way you touch me."

I could feel the muscles in his legs begin to quiver, letting me know that his orgasm was imminent. I'd barely started and he was ready to come. He must have been in the same state I was. Keeping a firm grasp on him, I slowly let him slide out of my mouth. I didn't want this to be over so soon.

"No!" he pulled my head back. "Please!"

"But-" I began to protest.

"Scully, please," his voice was rough.

I did as he asked, knowing that he would come almost immediately. As soon as he was back in my mouth, I felt his cock surge. Cradling his balls, I established a slow rhythm, hoping to make his climax as pleasurable as possible.

"God, yes," he growled as my mouth slid along his shaft. His legs began to shake so violently that I was afraid he might collapse. I'd never seen him in such a frenzied state. When his balls began to swell in my hand, I massaged them gently, knowing that would maximize his orgasm. Suddenly every muscle in his body went taut and I felt his balls contract in my hand.

"Scully," he bellowed and his cock began to pulse in my mouth.

His entire body quaked and both of his hands clenched handfuls of my hair. His incredible orgasm thrilled me. I loved that I could do that for him. I didn't let him slip out of my mouth until his breathing began to return to normal.

I was in the process of looking up at Mulder's face when everything began to move very quickly. He was stepping out of the water and picking me up in one fluid movement. Before I could utter a sound, I was on my back in our pile of blankets. Mulder's tongue was in my mouth and his hands had returned to my hair. Using one knee, he pushed mine apart and settled himself between my legs.

"Do have any idea of how long it's been since I saw you naked?" he broke our kiss briefly to ask.

It hadn't occurred to me that since we went to Madison, we always dressed before the sun came up and undressed after it set. Occasionally on Sundays we'd have time to enjoy each other, but much to Rosaline's consternation our last two Sundays in Madison had been spent working. She was sure we were going to burn in hell, but we'd needed the money. I just made sure I stayed out of her sight while I sewed.

"It's been almost a month, hasn't it?" I stroked his hair as he nipped at my neck.

"Is that all?" his voice was muffled. "It feels like an eon." He was inching his way down my body, tasting me as he went. When he reached my breasts he stopped. I was waiting to feel his thumbs brush across my nipples or for his hot mouth to cover me, but he seemed to have stopped completely.

I opened one eye to look at him. He had raised himself up on one elbow and was simply gazing down at me. As I watched he gently traced the curve of my left breast with his finger.

It suddenly became clear to me how Omiga had known I was pregnant. My breasts were not only significantly bigger but they'd became fuller as well. I'm sure that Mulder had noticed before - he touched my breasts every chance he got. He hadn't, however, actually seen them in a long time.

"See something you like?" I smiled down at him.

"I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that it might incriminate me," he smiled slyly.

"Mulder, I hate to break it to you, but you incriminated yourself when you stopped to stare at them," I had to laugh. "And I don't mind that you like that my breasts are bigger. I'd be surprised if you didn't. You never know, Mulder, if you're really lucky, they might stay a little bigger. Some women's do," I ruffled his hair.

"Does that mean I'm allowed to worship freely?" his eyes lit up.

"In private," I consented.

"I love you," he lunged forward to give me a quick kiss before he returned to my breasts.

Since he'd been given permission, Mulder didn't hold back. He began by testing the weight of each breast in the palm of his hand. When he started to caress and squeeze me, I let my eyes drift closed so I could enjoy his ministrations. By the time he lowered his mouth to my nipple, I'd grown very wet and my hips moved restlessly beneath him. The roughness of his beard was a sharp contrast to his lips and tongue, making them seem softer and hotter. My hips seemed to lift involuntarily to press against him and my breathing was becoming quite labored.

Mulder must have noticed my difficulties because he abandoned my breasts and began to trail kisses down my abdomen. I groaned when he picked up my left leg and laid it over his shoulder. When his hand lightly brushed over my sex, I shuddered violently.

"I've never seen you like this before, Scully. You're so -" he paused.

"Horny?" I offered.

"I was going to say anxious, but yeah. You've gone a lot longer without sex before, or I assume you have," he chuckled. "Why so anxious now?"

"Now I know what I'm missing," my voice was strained.

"Yeah?" I could hear the grin in his voice.

"Yeah, and I hate to point this out, Mulder, but you've had a blow job tonight. I'm still waiting," I was getting frantic.

"Sorry," he chuckled and reached for my right ankle to spread my legs further apart. When it was where he wanted it, he ran his hand back up toward my thigh.

Making a noise of protest, I shook my head.

"What's wrong?" he sounded confused.

"I haven't shaved in a while," I grimaced.

"I don't know about other men, Scully, but I don't really care about hairy legs," he chuckled and continued to stroke my calf.

"You worded that like you care about hairy something else," I lifted myself up on my elbows to look at him.

He didn't answer me - he just shrugged. We both knew we weren't talking about my underarms.

"Mulder you have no idea how long it took me to work up the courage to shave my legs with a straight razor. My pubic hair is out of the question."

"Scully," Mulder laughed. "I never asked you to shave your pubic hair. You brought it up," he reminded me. "But I'm not going to lie and say that I wouldn't prefer it if you did. I also completely understand why the straight razor would make you nervous. I'm certainly not going near my pubic hair with it."

"Okay," I sighed. "But I hate to think that it might be turning you off. If the circumstances were different, I'd have no problem shaving."

"Scully, I wanted to jump you when you hadn't had a bath in two weeks. A little pubic hair is nothing," he assured me. "And if circumstances do change we can worry about it then, okay?"

"Yeah," I agreed, laying back on the blankets. I barely had a chance to settle myself down before I felt Mulder's fingers spreading me open.

I couldn't stop myself from gasping at the sensation. I'm not sure if I derived pleasure from anticipating what he was about to do or if it was from being completely at his mercy. At that point I really didn't care. As if to prove that he had no qualms about going down on me when I hadn't shaved, Mulder began to eat me out voraciously. That was a phrase I'd never used before, but it perfectly described what he was doing.

His mouth was completely covering me and he was thrusting his tongue into me. He wasn't lifting his mouth off of me, but closing it by dragging his lips over my hypersensitive flesh. He wasn't gently flicking my clitoris with his tongue, but sucking it into his mouth and running his teeth over it. And I was loving it.

When he thrust two fingers into me, I felt the beginnings of my orgasm and I felt my toes curl under. His next assault on my clit sent me over the edge. My head was thrown back, my hips were in the air and all of my muscles were taut. Mulder had his fingers buried to the hilt and through all of my quaking he kept his lips on my clit.

When the tremors finally subsided, I fell to the bed exhausted. I knew my lethargy would only last a couple of minutes and that was a good thing. I could feel Mulder kissing his way back up to my face and every time he moved his erection would brush against me.

I was expecting him to start kissing me, but I could feel him hovering over me, so I opened my eyes to see what he was doing. His dark eyes were practically burning into me again.

"Will you let me decide what bothers me and what doesn't from now on?" his voice was hoarse.

I could only nod, mesmerized by his eyes. His cock was throbbing against me, so I shifted my hips to get him where I wanted him. When he began to slide into me, my eyes rolled back in my head.

"Is this what you want?" he was completely inside of me with one thrust.

"Yes," my voice trembled.

"Ten nights, Scully," he growled as he pulled out of me again. "It's been ten nights since we made love. I didn't think I was going to make it."

"I know," I was caressing his face, trying to smooth away the tension.

"And then I found out that you were desperate as I was," he slammed back into me, taking my breath away.

"I was," I panted. "I wanted you so badly."

"I had dreams, Scully," he spoke through clenched teeth as he withdrew again. "I fucked you every night in my dreams."

"Oh God," I groaned as he swiftly thrust into me again.

"Does that bother you?" his voice was strained.

"What? Does what bother me?" I was confused.

As he slowly pulled out of me incredibly slowly, our eyes locked together.

"Does it bother you that I dreamt about fucking you?" he asked before burying himself inside of me again.

"Of course not," I desperately wanted him to increase his pace but he seemed to have something else on his mind. When I tried to figure out what it was, I found his eyes searching mine.

I could feel that he was holding himself back. Every inch of him was straining for release, but I knew that he needed something from me. He needed my permission.

"Fuck me, Mulder," I breathed. "I want you to fuck me."

He must have been waiting for those words because as soon as they passed my lips he began to thrust into me with abandon. He lowered his face to my neck and our hands were clasped over my head.

"Need this, Scully," he panted into my ear. "Need you."

"Yes," was all I could manage to say. He was overwhelming me. He never did anything halfway. His love for me was complete and unquestioning. His need for me was raw and powerful. How could that have bothered me? I needed those things from him as much as he needed me to accept them.

"Need you to fuck me," It came out staccato because of my lack of air and the way Mulder was pounding against me.

My words must have triggered something because Mulder's pace became even more frantic. I felt his muscles tighten against me and then he began to shudder from head to toe as his thrusts became less powerful and more ragged.

He was still trembling when he collapsed on top of me. When his breathing slowed he rolled to his side and pulled me close.

"Where are you going?" he asked in alarm when I began to slide away from him.

"To put out the candles," I whispered. "We didn't bring enough to burn them while we sleep."

"Kay," he mumbled, fumbling around for a blanket.

When I lay down beside him again, he pulled a fur over us and snuggled up against me. I think he may have asked me something, but now that my need had been sated, I couldn't keep my eyes open.

I woke in the first gray light of dawn to find our wigwam in complete disarray. I woke Mulder up and had him dump the wash tub for me. He left it leaning against a tree - I'd have to wash it out in the lake later. While Mulder got some water from the lake for me, I made a quick fire.

While the oatmeal was cooking Mulder went off to look for Jack. All of the other women were up as well, tending to their fires. Conversations sprang up as they cooked and they all smiled at me. I'd been concentrating on not letting the bacon stick to the pan, so I didn't notice when Migisi walked up to me. She was carrying two small baskets. One held dried blueberries and the other was full of wild rice.

"Thank you, Migisi," I jumped up to hug her.

Looking at the ground, she blushed and murmured something, and then hurried back to her own fire.

I'd turned the meat over again and added a handful of berries to the oatmeal when I heard a scuffling noise behind me. One of the younger boys, Chachu, was holding two ruffed grouse out to me. After I thanked him and ruffled his hair, he scurried away.

Before Mulder returned, Abequa had shuffled over to me and given me a pouch of smoked meat.

"Thanks for talking to Jack, Mulder," I smiled when he returned. "We have more than enough provisions now."

"Oh," Mulder's eyes widened. "I forgot all about that. We were talking about where we were going to build. Jack says there is a little stream north of here that would be nice. Does that sound okay?"

I nodded, barely hearing what he said. I still couldn't believe that Mulder hadn't said anything.

"I told you not to worry," he must have read the expression on my face.

After wolfing down his breakfast, Mulder gave me a quick kiss and headed off into the northwest woods with Jack. It wasn't long before the ring and thuds of axes began to echo through the trees. I'd finished doing the breakfast dishes at the lake with the other women and I was fixing the bed in the wigwam when I heard shouting from the woods.

I ran quickly toward the voices as did all of the other women. When we got closer, Nawkaw appeared out of the trees, his hands covered with blood. He began to speak quickly and from the tone of his voice, I could tell he was frightened. He took hold of my arm and began to pull me through the woods.

End chapter 10


	12. Chapter 11

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 11

My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears that I couldn't hear a thing as Nawkaw dragged me through the undergrowth. Branches were scratching my legs and whipping my face. Ahead I could see the trees thinning out as if we were approaching a clearing. When we stumbled through the last of the trees I saw a circle of boys standing around someone. Nawkaw yelled and they parted to let us through. Lying on the ground with a bloody knife by his side was Chachu, the same boy who had brought me the ruffed grouse only about an hour earlier.

He was bleeding profusely from a gash in his right leg. Suspecting that he may have lacerated his femoral artery, I had to stop the bleeding as quickly as possible. He'd lost so much already. Nawkaw was wearing a long-sleeved deerskin shirt. It was all I had to work with. His eyes widened in surprise when I stood up and began to take it off of him, but he didn't stop me. Undoing the leather lacing at the shoulder, I pulled off a sleeve to use a pressure bandage. It would do for the time being, but I really needed to get Chachu back to camp and get that laceration closed.

"Jack," I looked up at Nawkaw. "I need Jack."

Nawkaw looked at me blankly, not understanding what I was saying.

"Elan!" I remembered. "Get Elan!"

Nawkaw nodded and dashed off into the woods. Now that my breathing had calmed, I could easily make out the sound of the axes again, but know they were much closer. If I'd been able to hear anything a few minutes earlier, I would have realized that it wasn't Mulder that had been hurt.

When I looked down at Chachu again, I found him lying very still, his eyes filled with fear. I wished I knew what to say to calm his fears. The best I could do was to speak softly to him and stroke his hair. I kept telling him everything would be all right. I knew he wouldn't understand the words, but I hoped my tone would be soothing.

As I spoke I thought about what I was going to need. The needles and thread I had were crude, but they would have to do. What I didn't have was something that I could use for his pain. Omiga might have something that could take the edge off. I knew for sure he had something to fight infection. At least that was one less thing for me to worry about.

As I continued to speak soothingly to Chachu, I worried about the amount of blood he'd lost. If it was too much, there was nothing I could do. I'd just have to make sure he drank plenty of water and pray.

I lifted the compress off the wound briefly to see if the pressure had accomplished anything. As soon as I did the blood began to ooze out of the cut again. I quickly reapplied the pressure. I had no idea how I was going to get him back to camp and keep the compress on his leg. The laces I'd removed from Nawkaw's shirt wouldn't be long enough. Tugging on my bottom lip as I looked around, I was surprised to see a much longer leather lace tied around Chachu's wrist. It hadn't been there earlier, but I didn't have time to wonder about it - it was exactly what I needed to tie down the compress.

As I was tying my final knot I heard voices in the woods and then three people came crashing into the clearing. Nawkaw was in the lead, Mulder was right on his heels and Jack wasn't far behind. When Mulder saw me, relief was written all over his face.

"Thank God," he fell to his knees beside me.

"Did you think it was me?" I put my hand on his leg, realizing too late that it was covered with blood.

"I couldn't understand what Nawkaw was saying," he took a shaky breath. "But I heard your name and his hands were bloody and I thought -," he hesitated. "Never mind what I thought," he shook his head. "You're fine."

"Chachu needs stitches, Mulder, and I don't have anything to suture him with properly, so I'll have to make do," I began to speak quickly. "Jack, please go find Omiga and tell him to meet us back at the village. And ask Omiga if he has anything that can take away pain."

Jack nodded at each of my instructions. When I was done, he turned and sprinted into the woods.

"Mulder, I need you to carry Chachu back to camp. Put him by the central fire. I'm going to run ahead because I'll need to sterilize a needle and thread before I can do anything."

"Okay," he nodded as I stood up.

"I've tied that compress onto his wound, but if it comes off, you'll have to stop and fix it."

"Okay," he nodded again. He was scooping up Chachu when I turned and ran as fast as I could back to the camp.

When I got back, I dug around my backpack for the smallest pot I'd brought back with me and filled it up with water from the lake. After stirring up the central fire, I set the pot right in the embers. I left it to heat up while I searched my travois for my sewing supplies. I'd just located them when I heard voices approaching the camp. Quickly grabbing the cotton that I'd brought for baby clothes, I ripped off some pieces for swabs. Then I took my scissors and a couple of blankets from the wigwam and hurried back to the fire.

Mulder walked into camp just as I was putting the threaded needle, the cotton and the scissors into the now boiling water.

"Put him down here and cover him up," I pointed to the blanket. "He's probably in shock. I'll be right back - I need to wash my hands. Where's Omiga?" I scanned the edges of the camp as I dashed back to find my soap.

While I was scrubbing my hands at the lake I heard Omiga's rumbling voice. When I got back to the fire he was peering at Chachu's wound with concerned eyes. When he saw me he turned to Jack and said something.

"Omiga wants to know what you are planning to do," Jack knelt down beside the old man.

"I'm going to stitch up his cut," I explained.

"What do you mean?" Jack looked puzzled.

"I'm going to use a needle and thread and sew his skin back together," I put it bluntly.

Jack's eyes widened, but he turned and translated for Omiga. The healer didn't look at all surprised by what I'd said, but he asked Jack another question.

"What's in the pot?" Jack turned back to me.

"The needle and thread, some cotton and scissors. I'm sterilizing them," I informed him as I inspected the boiling water.

"What is sterilizing?" Jack wanted to know before he translated.

"You know how sometimes when you get a cut it can get infected?" I began.

Jack nodded.

"That infection is caused by tiny bugs, too tiny to see with your eyes, but they are everywhere. Those bugs are what spoils the meat if an animal's intestines get spilled on the meat," I tried to think of an example he would understand. "The needle and thread have those bugs on them too, but boiling them in water will kill them. That will help to stop Chachu's leg from getting infected."

"If you can't see them, how do you now that they are there?" Jack sounded skeptical.

"I just do. You'll just have to trust me, Jack."

When Jack began to explain what I'd said to Omiga, I asked Mulder for his knife.

"What do you want that for?" he grimaced as he reached for the sheath he wore tied around his waist.

"I need it to sterilize it so I can use it to scoop everything out of the water," I explained as I put it into the pot blade first.

"Oh," he let out a sigh of relief.

"Omiga says he knows about the unseen spirits that cause infection, but he didn't know that boiling water would send them away," Jack sounded a little surprised as he translated for me. "He also asks if you will teach him how to do this sewing."

"I'd love to teach him, but he'll have to wash his hands first. Those spirits hide everywhere, but the soap will kill them, too."

When Jack translated for him, Omiga looked at his hands in surprise, but got up to obey.

"Does he have something for the pain?" I asked quickly before they left.

When Jack asked Omiga my question he reached into his pouch and pulled out two dried leaves. He handed them to me and pointed to his mouth.

"Mulder, could you please go with them and bring back another pot of water. I'm going to have to keep washing my hands."

Mulder jumped up to do what I asked. While I waited for them to return, I gave Chachu the leaves. He balked at the taste, but his mother, Leosani, was in the circle of people that had surrounded us and she spoke some short sharp words to him. He chewed and swallowed without further ado.

Knowing I had to sterilize the handle of the knife too, I picked it up and turned it around in the water. Now before I could do anything else, I'd have to wash my hands again.

When Mulder got back, I washed up and then turned the knife again. As soon as the handle was cool enough to touch I'd start. Chachu had already drifted off to sleep, making me extremely curious about what Omiga had given him.

"Mulder, could you open one of his eyes, please?"

When he did, I leaned over to take a look and everyone around us leaned with me. I found his pupil was dilated. Those leaves were apparently a narcotic, but I wanted to make sure he wasn't just asleep. I needed to know that he could tolerate the pain. I couldn't have my patient leaping around when I was being suturing him.

"I hate to keep asking you things, but it's easier than washing my hands all of time," I smiled apologetically at Mulder.

"I'm just happy I can help, Scully," he assured me. "What would you like me to do?"

"Take off one of his moccasins and give his big toe a squeeze. And make sure you press down on his toenail," I instructed.

Everyone watched with interest as Mulder did what I asked, but Chachu didn't react at all to the pain stimulus.

"Why did you do that?" Jack asked without Omiga saying anything.

"To make sure he can't feel anything," I explained.

"How does that tell you?" he shook his head.

"Why don't you give Jack's toe a squeeze, Mulder?" I smiled.

Jack shrugged and slipped off his moccasin. When Mulder squeezed his toe, Jack yelped and scooted backward. So everyone was laughing as I began to fish around for the threaded needle.

"Mulder, could you please wash your hands and then show Omiga where to put his hands to compress the wound? They need to be far enough away that I have room to work," I asked once I had the needle ready.

When everyone was ready, I asked Jack to lift the compress. As soon as he did the gash started to bleed again. Mulder stopped it quickly by putting his hands where I'd asked. He looked over at Omiga and the old man nodded, knelt down beside Chachu and took over.

Everyone watched in absolute silence as I quickly stitched up the three inch laceration. I hoped it would be enough to stop the blood flow. If there really was a large enough cut in his femoral artery he would continue to bleed internally and our efforts would have been wasted. If, however, it was only a nick, the stitches and compression might slow the bleeding enough to let a clot form. If we were incredibly lucky, the femoral artery wasn't involved at all.

When I was done I cut the thread with my scissors and then swabbed the area with a piece of cotton. Much to my delight no more blood seeped through the stitches. I let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Now I need to dress it," I informed Jack. "Please tell Omiga that I need a poultice like the one he gave me."

While they spoke I washed my hands and then looked down at my patient. He was breathing slowly and regularly. I hoped whatever Omiga gave him would keep him unconscious for a while. If he moved around too soon, he could start the bleeding again.

"Omiga wants to show you how to make the poultice," Jack smiled.

"That would be great," I smiled at Omiga. "Will you stay to translate?" I looked back at Jack.

"I can't" he looked apologetic. "Maybe tonight Omiga can tell me what he did and I can tell you. Would that be all right?" he looked hopeful. "We've lost a lot of daylight already."

"Of course," I smiled, but I wondered what I could possibly learn from watching Omiga boil some leaves and twigs.

"We were planning to break for a meal at midday, but maybe we shouldn't now," Mulder pursed his lips.

"I could bring your food there," I offered, wanting to contribute something to the effort.

"That's a good idea," Jack nodded. "But have one of the boys bring it. It's too dangerous there for you," his tone was sincere.

I swallowed my protest before even opening my mouth. Mulder shot me a sympathetic gaze. We both knew that it was not the time to be questioning a woman's place.

"Besides, I'm sure you have more than enough to do here."

"You're probably right," I tried to sound contrite. I knew that the women and men had definite roles within the tribe. It wasn't up to me to question a tradition that was hundreds, if not thousands, of years old. I consoled myself with the fact that Omiga was willing to teach me something of what he knew; that was extraordinary in itself.

"See you at dusk, Scully," Mulder leaned over to kiss me before he stood up to leave.

"Bye," I forced a smile. It had been my decision to come back here, so I couldn't really complain about the consequences. "Mulder," I stopped him before he got too far.

"Yeah?" he turned around again.

I beckoned him closer with my finger. "Why don't you ask Jack if he and Wanik would like to eat with us tonight? I have those two birds to cook and I'm sure they'll be more than we can eat by ourselves.

"I will," he promised and after giving me another peck, he and Jack disappeared into the woods again.

I'm not sure how long I sat there looking at the trees that they'd vanished into, feeling sorry for myself, but I was drawn back to reality by hearing Omiga call my name. When I looked up he was gesturing for me to follow him.

"What about Chachu?" I didn't think we should leave him.

Omiga said something and pointed to the women who were still gathered around the fire. I assumed that he thought they would be capable of looking after him in our absence.

I followed Omiga to his wigwam and waited outside while he retrieved several leather bags from inside. Once outside again he handed me a small cast iron pot.

"Biidoo-nibi," he pointed toward the lake.

"Water?" I asked. "Do you want me to get some water?" I pointed into the pot.

"Nibi," he nodded vigorously. "Biidoo-nibi."

I hurried to the edge of the lake and filled the pot almost to the top. When I got back to Omiga, he was adding more wood to his fire.

"Biidoo-nibi," I smiled and pointed to the pot.

Omiga chuckled and shook his head and took the pot from me. "Nibi," he pointed into the pot. Then he walked a short distance away, still carrying the pot. "Biidoo-nibi," he said firmly as he turned and began to walk back.

"Oh," I smiled and nodded. I couldn't think of any way to tell him that I thought 'nibi' meant water and 'biidoo-nibi' was the act of carrying the water or getting the water. With Jack's help I should be able to get it straight. If Mulder and I were going to be staying here, it was time we started to learn the language, or at least some key phrases.

After he hung the pot over the fire to heat, Omiga took the bolt of cheesecloth I'd given him and using his knife, cut off about a two foot length. Then sitting cross-legged, he folded it in half and put it over his lap. Once he was settled he began to open his various pouches and crumbling some of the contents onto the cloth. Each time he added something, he said a string of words, but after the first two or three I stopped trying to remember what he'd said. I couldn't even be sure if he was telling me the name, what they did, or where to find them. He also held them up so I could smell them and feel the textures. His final ingredient, however, he wouldn't let me touch.

When I questioned him with my eyes, he began a long explanation. I assume he could tell from the look on my face that I had no idea what he was talking about. So he paused and thought for a minute and then surprised me by reaching over to touch my abdomen. He shook his head, and spoke in a solemn voice.

"Oh," I could feel my eyes widen as I understood that whatever that plant was, it had the capability of harming my baby.

After picking it up and showing it to me again, he shook his to make sure I understood not to touch it. When I nodded he smiled, tied up the cheesecloth and tossed it into the boiling water.

To submerge the poultice he was using a spoon that had an elaborately carved handle. I wished I knew how to ask if there was a special significance to the carving or if it was just for decoration. We sat in silence as the water continued to boil. It didn't take long before a familiar acrid aroma began to assault my nose. It gave off the same smell as the poultice that Omiga had made for me, all those weeks ago.

Omiga didn't leave the bag in the pot for very long, maybe about three minutes. I assumed it was long enough to saturate everything, but not so long that all of the active ingredients were leached out. After scooping the bag out of the water and briefly letting it drain, he motioned for me to follow him. Walking back over to Chachu, we found him still out cold. Testing the temperature of the poultice, Omiga decided it was cool enough to put on the boy's leg. Once our patient was covered up again, Omiga said a few words and then ambled away.

Leosani, Chachu's mother, had been sitting at the central fire watching everything we were doing. The other women had already left to pursue other tasks. When Omiga left she smiled at me and murmured a few words. After returning her smile, I checked out Chachu one last time and then went back to the wigwam.

I'd only half finished making the bed before the commotion began, so I completed that chore as best I could - Chachu had two of our blankets. But at least the bed was straight and neat, not shoved up against the wall of the wigwam. I laughed to myself at the pictured Mulder and I must have made sleeping in that pile of furs.

Next on my agenda was laundry. It was a huge production and if I let too much accumulate, it would be more than I'd be able to do in one day. As it was I had the towels from the night before, three shirts Mulder had worn on our trek and several pairs of drawers that I started to wear under my dress to keep out the draft. I'd grabbed a large pot and was about to start warming up some water when I noticed that most of the other women were working at their fires.

Glancing up at the sun, I discovered that it had long since passed overhead. My stomach fell when I realized how long it would take to get any food ready for Mulder. Here I'd been angry that I was prohibited from going to the work site because I'd wanted to help, and yet I couldn't even manage to do a simple thing like make sure Mulder had something to eat at lunchtime. I grabbed a pot and was about to dash to the lake for water when I heard Wanik's voice behind me.

"Nibi," I said in a frantic voice as I held up the pot.

Wanik shook her head and took the pot away from me. "Mitabi," she pointed at the ground.

When I looked down where she was pointing, she laughed and pushed on my shoulder making me sit down.

"But I need to make some food for Mulder," I protested.

"Wapi izhiiwidoo-wiiyass-imaa," she pointed in the direction of the logging operation.

"Wapi took the food already? But who made it?" I wanted to know. I needed to know who to thank for saving my ass. I hoped it wouldn't take very long before I got my act together and I wouldn't need anyone to bail me out anymore.

"Bekaa," she held up her hand and left me sitting there while she hurried over to her fire. She began to scoop some food into a bowl. I didn't have time to wonder if she wanted me to stay put or not. She was already heading back.

"Thank you," I smiled when she handed the bowl to me. I wished I could tell her that once everything settled down, I'd be able to look after Mulder and myself. I'm sure everyone thought I was a complete idiot. Wanik sat patiently while I ate and as soon as I was done she reached for the bowl.

"I can wash it," I shook my head. "I was going down to the lake to get water anyway," I kept the bowl and stood to pick up the pot that she had taken away from me.

"Jaawiin," she shook her head and pointed at the birds I'd hung on the side of the wigwam.

"I was going to do my laundry first," I pointed to the pile of dirty clothes in the washtub. "I can clean the birds later. Biidoo-nibi," I held up the pot.

"Jaawiin," Wanik put her hands on her hips.

"What?" I was confused. Not knowing what 'jaawiin' meant didn't help. I thought she wanted me to do something with the birds, but I wasn't sure why. They'd already been eviscerated - all I had to do was pluck them.

As I stood there with a bowl in one hand and the pot in the other, Wanik breezed past me, took the birds down quickly and began to speak quickly as she plucked.

"Wanik!" I protested. "I can do that."

"Biidoo-nibi," she jerked her head toward the lake.

I was shocked that she was speaking to me this way, but knowing Wanik she must have a good reason. I did as she instructed and when I got back I discovered her reason. The birds were a bloody mess, literally. I assumed it would be the same as a duck, but ducks didn't bleed this way. I'd had plenty of practice during my childhood, trying to keep up with my brothers.

Wanik smiled up at me, took the pot of water and placed both of the plucked birds into it.

"Giizhitto-binewag," she said in satisfied voice.

"Should I put it on the fire?" I picked up the pot and swung it in that direction.

"Jaawiin," she shook her head vigorously.

"Okay," I chuckled and put the pot back down.

After another long string of words, from which I gathered I was not supposed to touch the pot, Wanik took her bowl and left me to my own devices.

Before doing anything else, I went to check on Chachu only to discover he'd been moved into his parents' wigwam, apparently when Wanik and I had been arguing about the ruffed grouse. His mother beckoned me in when I peaked in the door. Chachu was awake, but still groggy. I checked his leg and found it clean and dry. By the next day I would know if it was going to get infected. I smiled at both of them and left Chachu to get the rest he needed.

I got another pot of water and began to heat it up for the laundry. While I waited, I began to go through both travois, trying to sort everything in a more logical way than by weight. I hoped it would help me remember where things were. Unloading the backpacks, I left all of the clothes in the wigwam and put everything else in the travois. By the time I was done, the water had just begun to steam. I took a length of rope I found while I was organizing and strung it between two trees.

In the few minutes I had before the water started to boil, I looked around the edges of the woods for a stick I could use. When Rosaline and I had first done laundry, I'd expected her to haul out a washboard. She explained that she only used them if something had been badly stained.

"A washboard will wear out your clothes in no time, Dana," she'd warned me. "And I don't have the extra money to throw away."

She'd shown me to use a stick similar to the dasher we used to churn the butter to agitate the clothes in the water. It was still hard work, but probably much easier than a washboard.

When I returned with my stick the water was boiling, so I dumped it into the tub with the laundry and the soap. I added a bit of cold water to the mix, stoked my fire and then put another pot on to heat for rinse water.

I punched and prodded the laundry until my arms were tired and then I poured out the dirty, soapy water. Next I added the warm rinse water and another pot of cold and repeated the process without the soap. After I rinsed it a final time I wrung everything out and then hung it on the line I'd made.

I'd just sat down in attempt to catch my breath when Wanik appeared in front of me. She picked up the pot holding the birds and motioned for me to follow her. She took me to a spot about 200 yards north of the camp on the shore of the lake.

I quickly discovered that she was taking me to the place they used to clean the animals. I assumed it was this far from the village to keep the predators away from the camp.

Wanik took the first bird and squatted by a rock to carve up the bird.

"Jaawiin," I tried to stop her, hoping it meant no, like I thought.

Her head snapped up at me in surprise.

"I can do it," I reached for the knife.

She smiled broadly and backed away. When I was young my father had taught me a trick that made the breasts easily come free of the skin. Then with another couple of cuts, I had them deboned. They were similar enough to chicken breasts that I had no problem and soaking them in cold water had made them easier to work with.

When I held the skin up to Wanik, she took it and tossed it aside. I was surprised. I'd assumed that they would use almost every part of the bird, but on the other hand, it might be another way to keep predators away from the village.

Wanik watched closely as I skinned and deboned the second bird. It gave me a thrill to be able to show her something that might be of help.

In no time we were back at the camp and I was browning the meat in the frying pan with some fat. In half an hour I had a stew simmering. I was adding some salt, pepper and sage when Leosani approached me carrying two blankets.

"Miigwech," she handed the blankets to me.

"These aren't mine," I shook my head. One was made of the most incredibly soft doe skin and the other from an equally soft fur. Both were far nicer than what I used for Chachu.

"Miigwech," she murmured again and began to walk away.

I assumed that she was lending me these blankets to replace the ones I'd given to Chachu.

"Thank you, Leosani," I called to her. When she turned around I smiled and gave the blankets a squeeze.

She returned my smile and continued back to her wigwam. I took the blankets inside and finished making the bed. When I emerged I felt oddly satisfied with myself. Aside from losing track of time that morning, I'd accomplished a lot. The wigwam was neat, the travois were organized, the laundry was drying and supper was simmering in the pot. To top all of that I felt like I'd contributed by helping Chachu. It gave me a very cozy feeling.

I was still relishing my warm feeling when I saw Mulder and Jack walking toward the camp. From the definite lack of spring in his step, I could tell Mulder was tired. His shoulders were slumped and his head was hanging slightly. As they got closer I could see reddish-brown smudges on his breeches. Then I remembered the bloody handprint I'd put on his thigh. He must have gotten more blood on his pants when he carried Chachu back to camp.

My heart went out to Mulder. He must have had one hell of a day. Out of my need to be closer to him to comfort him, I began to walk toward them. After only taking a few steps, I stopped short and my heart leapt into my throat. I could finally see the cause of all of the bloodstains on his pants.

End chapter 11


	13. Chapter 12

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 12

As I got closer to Mulder my stomach began to churn. Most people wouldn't be able function in that state. Then again, most people would never have let it get to that stage. It must have been excruciating. His hands were completely raw.

"Is that from the axe?" I inspected his palms.

"Yup," he shrugged, said axe still on his shoulder.

"What about your hands, Jack?" I looked at him, concerned for his health as well.

"Mine are fine," he showed me his left. "Mulder is not used to the work."

"I thought with everything you did in Madison..." I began.

"Not the same as working with an axe for nine hours," he interrupted me.

"Why didn't you stop when they started to get bad?" I took him by the elbow and led him back to the wigwam.

"What would that have accomplished?" His pragmatic tone annoyed me.

"Oh, I don't know - maybe your hands wouldn't look like raw meat," I couldn't believe that he'd pushed himself this far. "Let me get some mats to sit on. The ground is getting cold." I ducked inside to grab a couple of the mats from the floor of the wigwam. They were woven from grasses and covered the floors of all of the wigwams. "Sit here," I ordered once I'd placed the mats by the fire. "I'll get Omiga," I didn't try to hide my exasperation.

"I will get him," Jack offered, looking a little uncomfortable. "I can explain it better."

"Thanks, Jack," I smiled at him and then not a word was spoken until he was out of earshot.

"What, exactly, did you expect me to do, Scully? Let Jack do all of the work for our cabin? He was faster than me to start with," Mulder's eyes flashed angrily.

"I'm sure he would have understood," I tried to keep my voice calm. "I doubt that he expected you to cripple yourself."

"Don't be so melodramatic, Scully," he rolled his eyes at me. "I'm hardly crippled. It's just raw skin under some broken blisters. "I'm sure they'll heal."

"Well, you won't be going back until they _are_ healed," I said flatly.

"Yes, I am. I'm going back tomorrow," he looked up at me.

I was surprised that he was arguing with me about a health matter. He almost always did what I asked. I could tell from the gleam in his eyes that he wasn't about to back down, but I wasn't about to give up, either.

"Mulder, be serious," my voice seemed to be getting louder of its own accord. "How could you possibly do anything with those hands?"

"Scully, we have a limited amount of time to get this finished. Jack has to leave for Green Bay in a week and I can't do this without him. By the time he gets back we'll probably be knee deep in snow and it'll be too late. You know that I only agreed to come back here if we had a cabin to live in, so I either go back to work tomorrow or we can start packing for Madison - your choice," his voice was firm.

I couldn't remember a time when Mulder had spoken to me like that. I'd seen him that way with other people, just never with me. He knew that I wouldn't agree to going back to Madison, so he was telling me that the decision was already made - by him.

"But how, Mulder?" I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn't bear knowing that he was enduring this for me. "How are you even going to be able to pick up an axe?" I knelt down beside him, in acquiescence.

"We'll think of something," his tone was reassuring and his eyes had softened dramatically. "Here comes Omiga," he nodded across the compound. The old man was hobbling toward us with Jack following closely behind. "I'm sure he'll be able to help."

Omiga sighed heavily when he saw Mulder's hands. Squatting down beside him, he pulled a small clay pot out of the basket he'd brought. Lifting the leather cover revealed what looked like an ointment. Omiga dipped two fingers into it and began to spread it onto Mulder's palms. At the first contact, Mulder drew in a sharp breath and bit his lip. All I could do was rub his leg to try to soothe him; my heart broke anew with every wince.

Once both hands were treated, Omiga pulled out some very thin leather and wrapped it around both of Mulder's palms. To secure it, he tied narrow strips of leather around the bandages. Then Omiga began to speak to Jack and after handing him some bark, he stood up and shuffled away.

"Omiga says he'll come back later to put fresh medicine on your hands. The doeskin will help to protect them when you're working tomorrow," Jack spoke to Mulder first. Then he turned and handed the bark to me. "Make some tea with this for Mulder; some now, some in the morning and then with his midday meal. Omiga says it will help with the pain."

"Thank you, Jack," I smiled, taking the bark. "I'll get the water now."

When I got back Wanik had joined the men at our fire. I was surprised to see that she was wearing what looked like breeches under her dress. Mulder looked like he was in Buddhist prayer, with his legs crossed and his palms upturned.

"Hi, Wanik," I smiled as I hung the kettle over the fire. I was glad I thought to bring a cast iron spit. It made cooking a whole lot simpler.

"Kwe-kwe, Day-na," Wanik smiled.

"Kwe-kwe?" I turned to Jack.

"It means hello, or nice to see you. It's how we great each other," he explained.

"Oh, okay," I turned back to Wanik. "Kwe-kwe, Wanik," I returned her greeting, making her giggle. "I thought I'd fry up some corn bread to go with the stew," I told them us I got up to fetch the frying pan. "Do you think you could explain some things to me while I cook, Jack?"

"What things?" Mulder was curious.

"I'm trying to learn some of the language, but it's confusing," I told them as I rummaged through my supplies.

"I'd be glad to help," Jack watched me expectantly.

"I hardly know where to start," I chuckled as I gathered up the ingredients for the bread. "Does jaawiin mean no?"

"Yes, it does," he chuckled. "That's an easy one to learn, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I smiled. "When I was with Omiga this morning I was confused by the difference between nibi and biidoo-nibi."

"Well, nibi is water and if Omiga said biidoo-nibi, he wanted you to bring him - biidoo, water - nibi," he smiled.

As soon as he finished speaking Wanik began to tell him something in an earnest voice, glancing at me occasionally.

"Wanik wants you to know that she wasn't angry with you this afternoon. She wanted you to understand that it was important to pluck the birds and get them into the water to soak," Jack translated. "They aren't like ducks. Ducks can just be plucked and cooked."

"I kind of figured that out," I chuckled.

"And that reminds me, Omiga asked me to tell you not to touch the purple flower that grows by the shore," Jack looked perplexed. "Do you know what that means?"

"Yes, it was in the poultice we made this morning. I think it's bad for the baby," I clarified. "Did he say anything else? I was hoping to learn the names of everything."

"No, he was busy," Jack looked apologetic. "I'm sure he'll tell you when he has time."

"That bark for the tea; it was in the poultice too," I hoped Jack would know what it was.

"That's poplar bark," Jack nodded.

"Oh," I understood immediately. "A salicylate."

"Really?" Mulder must have recognized the word. "Take two aspirin and call me in the morning," he laughed.

"Aspirin?" Jack furrowed his brow.

"A remedy given by white doctors," Mulder explained.

"Never heard of it," Jack cocked his head. "From what I've seen, most white doctors give out tonics that are no better than liquor."

"Can't argue with you there, Jack," I interjected. "As for the aspirin, maybe they haven't made it this far west yet." It was easier than explaining that acetylsalicylic acid hadn't been isolated by white men yet.

While I finished frying the bread I learned that miigwech meant thank you and that Leosani had meant for me to keep the blankets she'd given me.

"I can't keep them," I protested. "Those were your blankets I used, Jack."

"I'll get them back," he laughed. "It was symbolic. She needed to thank you and you needed blankets."

"True," I had to agree. "Everything's ready, including your tea, Mulder. I'll get that first."

When Mulder took his first sip, his eyes grew wide and he spat it back out, making Wanik chortle.

"I can't drink that, Scully," he grimaced.

"Mulder," I sighed. "Have I ever told you that you're a pain in the ass? Let me serve Jack and Wanik and then I'll get you some sugar."

"Thank you," he tried to dazzle me with a smile, but I pretended like I hadn't noticed.

When I'd given our guests their food, I retrieved the sticky brown sugar to sweeten Mulder's tea.

"It still doesn't taste very good," he complained.

"One more teaspoon and that's it," I warned him. "It's not supposed to be delicious, Mulder, it's medicine."

"Yes, dear," he faked a smile and began to take small sips of his tea, keeping his nose wrinkled the entire time.

"This stew is delicious, Day-na," Jack praised my food. "And your cornbread is better than Rosaline's."

"Thank you, Jack," I felt my cheeks grow hot. I hoped that in the deepening twilight no one would notice.

As I began to dish out Mulder's food, Wanik murmured something to Jack, making him smile.

"Wanik would like to learn how to make the cornbread. Will you teach her?"

"Of course," I assured him as I handed Mulder his food. "Actually, that gives me an idea. Tomorrow I'll make lunch for both of you and I can make some cornbread to go with it. I'll show Wanik then. How does that sound?"

Wanik nodded and smiled brightly when Jack translated for her. When I sat down with my supper, Jack and Mulder began to talk about the house.

"I don't think it'll take too much longer to finish," Jack said thoughtfully.

"We'd be done sooner if you weren't insisting on a floor," Mulder countered.

"You'd freeze without one in the winter and come spring it would be like living in the middle of a stream," Jack argued.

It sounded like a debate they'd had before.

"You seem to manage without them in the wigwams," Mulder pointed out.

"I haven't told you this before, but the Fox Indians haven't always lived in wigwams. They lived in houses; houses with floors. They adopted wigwams from the plains Indians when they lived in Iowa. It's much easier to pick up and go with a wigwam. Not to mention, that if you had looked at the floor of yours, you would have found that under the mats are branches. That's all there to keep out that cold and water."

"I was joking, Jack," Mulder shook his head. "I would never let Scully live with a dirt floor, especially in the interest of saving time."

"It wouldn't be so bad," I interjected. "And if it would be easier on your hands -,"

"Scully," Mulder's tone became serious, "I thought this was settled."

"I can make do with a dirt floor for one winter," I offered.

"For one thing, it would be much harder to put the floor in later," his tone was still serious, "And like Jack said, we're almost done felling the trees. Most of tomorrow will be spent barking them. We're putting in the real floor, Scully."

"I know it's not my place to interfere," Jack spoke up, "But even if Mulder agreed with you, I'd have to insist on a real floor. A dirt floor is no way for decent folks to live, and you've got a baby to think about."

"I'm just worried about Mulder's hands," I didn't look at Mulder. I knew he'd be angry that I brought it up.

"It's the only way to toughen'em up," Jack shrugged. "And the worst of the work is over. Omiga's wraps should help. He'll be fine. My hands have looked like that more than once," Jack chuckled. "If you baby'em too much, he'll have it just as bad the next time."

I kept my mouth shut. I knew I'd lost this one, and I could already hear Mulder saying 'I told you so'.

"And our ancestors will be pleased," Jack continued with a smile. "It's their duty to protect our people."

"Your ancestors? Why?" I wasn't following him.

"Both the Fox and Sauk Indians believe that our ancestors inhabit the trees of the forest. Sometimes at night you can hear them whispering," Jack looked up as he spoke.

"Really?" Mulder said through a mouthful of cornbread, following Jack's eyes to the tree line.

"Won't everyone be mad that we're chopping down their ancestors?" I looked around in surprised.

"No," Jack chortled. "Like I said, they're here to protect us, and they'll still be in the trees when they are the walls of your cabin," he added proudly.

"That cabin is going to be crowded," Mulder chuckled.

"We are always surrounded by our ancestors," Jack's tone was very serious.

"I wish my family was that close," I whispered, feeling tears start to well up in my eyes. I tried not to think about the fact that I would never see my mother or brothers again. At least I had Mulder, and we were starting a family of our own. I also had my new friends, and they had welcomed us with open arms, but these things would never manage to soothe the ache in my heart. I was sure my mother thought I was dead; another daughter lost to an ideal she never understood.

Mulder put a swaddled hand on my leg, knowing that all he could give me was support. I tried to smile at him as I blinked back my tears. My attempt, however, was in vain. Despite my efforts, I felt a single cold tear slide down my cheek. As I reached up quickly to brush it away, I heard Wanik murmur something to Jack. They spoke so quickly that I couldn't make out any of the words.

"Wanik wanted to know why you were sad," Jack turned and spoke softly to me. "When I told her she asked me to remind you that you were adopted by the tribe and we are your family."

"I know, Jack, and thank you, but -," I began to explain, but he cut me off.

"That wasn't all she said," his voice was still slow and soothing. "She wanted you to know that when someone you love is far away, you always have them here," he put a hand to chest. That is why she isn't sad when I'm away, because I'm always here."

"Oh, Wanik," I murmured as a fresh onslaught of tears began. After putting my bowl down, I walked around the fire and knelt down beside her to give her a hug. "Miigwech, Wanik." As I held her tightly, she said something else to Jack, her voice still soft and melodic.

"And you are always in their hearts. The pain is there so you never forget." Jack's translation made me squeeze her even harder.

I still hadn't loosened my grip when Omiga's rumbling voice startled me. Before Jack could translate for me, Wanik began to pull out of our embrace. I assumed he was there to look at Mulder's hands, but when Jack began to translate, he was looking at me.

"Omiga is going to change Chachu's poultice. He wants us both to go so you can learn the names of the different medicines."

I glanced around at all of the dirty dishes and realized that I'd have to clean them later. Normally Mulder would have taken care of them for me, but that was hardly possible, considering the state of his hands.

By the time I was on my feet, Omiga was already halfway back to his wigwam. When I caught up with him, he was picking up the pot we'd used for the poultice earlier that day.

"I know, biidoo - nibi," I chuckled when he handed it to me.

When I returned with the water, he and Jack were waiting for me by the fire. Omiga had all of his pouches beside him. After I hung the water over the fire, I sat down beside him and he began to speak immediately. Jack began to translate right away. There was no way I could listen to what Omiga was saying and then listen for the meaning, so I had to concentrate on Jack's voice and Omiga's hands.

"Put the poplar bark in first, because it needs to boil the longest. When it begins to soften, put it in the cloth with the other medicine. This bark works as a poultice and in the tea I gave your husband."

Omiga gave me the bark to feel and smell before I put it into the cheesecloth. He did the same with each leaf and flower that went into the poultice.

"This grows on the vine, like grapes," he explained as he handed me a blossom that looked similar to clover, but it was brown.

"This leaf grows on the bush with the branches that bend easily. It grows near the stream," Jack explained as Omiga handed me a heart shaped leaf.

We continued in the same way with all of the ingredients until we got to the last one; the one Omiga said would hurt the baby.

"And you know this one," Omiga took the cloth away from me. "This purple flower that grows by the river will help to reduce swelling, but if you even only touch the flower, you could lose your baby."

"But I did touch the poultice," I reminded him, my heart rate increasing.

"Not enough," Omiga shook his head as Jack spoke. "Only the flower. Once it is mixed in with everything else, it isn't strong enough to harm you. But you should still be careful."

"I will," I started to smile at him to assure, but a scream from the camp made my blood turn cold. "What was that?" I scrambled to my feet.

"Nothing for you to worry about, Day-na," Jack stood up and put his hand on my arm.

"But -," I looked toward the sound of a woman sobbing.

Omiga ignored the sounds and began to speak again. "Now take the poplar bark out and add it to the rest. We'll boil all of it together until the smell is right."

As I fished the poplar bark out, I tried to figure out what was going on, but I didn't hear any words that I recognized. I'd just set the softened bark onto the cheesecloth when Mulder ran up to us.

"I can't tell what's happening," he panted. "I ran to see if Chachu was okay as soon as I heard the scream. He's awake and looking fine, well, forlorn, but okay."

"It is about Dasan, not Chachu," Jack kept his voice low.

"What about him?" I asked as I poked at the poultice I'd placed into the boiling water.

"It is about his punishment," Jack informed us solemnly.

"Punishment?" I could see the confusion on Mulder's face in the firelight.

"He was there when Chachu was hurt," I told Mulder. "Is that why he's being punished?"

"No," Jack shook his head quickly. "He and Chachu were playing a dangerous game. They had tied their wrists together and they were fighting with knives."

"Is that some kind of traditional game?" Mulder's voice rose in alarm.

"There is a traditional game that involves tying the wrists together. It is a test of strength and speed. Traditionally it does not involve knives," Jack explained.

"Is that why Dasan is being punished? For using a knife?" I whirled around from the fire - the small knives we'd brought for the boys foremost in my mind. "Is Chachu going to be punished too?"

"Dasan is not being punished for using a knife. He is being punished for taking a knife that was not his to take," Jack informed us sadly.

"Oh," Mulder winced.

"What will his punishment be?" I couldn't remember ever seeing any of the children being punished, with the exception of the occasional sharp word.

"That is why the elders were meeting," Jack looked back over his shoulder. "They must have reached a decision. That must be why his mother was crying."

I wanted to ask more; to find out what kind of punishment would have made his mother so upset, but Omiga began to speak again.

"The medicine is ready. Smell it," he instructed.

I leaned over to take a whiff. The acrid fumes were very familiar. It smelled the same as the poultice Omiga had used on me when I'd first arrived here. When I had Jack repeat that to Omiga, the old healer grinned.

"I hoped you would remember," he grinned toothlessly and then bent to pluck the cheesecloth from the steaming water with his leathery fingers.

I had a patient to think about; worrying about Dasan's punishment would have to wait. By the time Omiga and I had finished with Chachu everyone in the village had retired for the night. I was surprised when Omiga stayed with me all the way back to my wigwam. I hadn't ever seen anyone worry about a woman's safety here. When he came inside with me, I remembered that he had said he'd be back to look at Mulder's hands again.

Mulder was a far better patient for Omiga than he ever was for me. He sat, uncomplaining, while Omiga changed his dressings and put fresh ointment on his hands. I sat back and watched. The only light was provided by a candle that Mulder had somehow managed to light.

To my amazement, his palms were already less red and raw looking. It could have just been a trick of the light. I certainly didn't think he was ready to work with an axe again, but I also knew better than to bring it up again. He was serious about trekking back to Madison. I hated not having any other options, but as hard as I wracked my brain, I couldn't come up with any.

It had been my idea to come back here in the first place and I'd agreed to Mulder's only stipulation; the cabin. I knew I'd never be allowed to take his place in the wood lot. I was incredibly lucky that Omiga was teaching me what he knew. My adopted family would surely disown me if I ever overstepped my bounds. Everyone else here was already helping as much as they could. Winter was coming and every free hand was needed to help prepare. When the cabin was finished, we were going to have to pitch in to make up for the time we'd taken away. The only thing I could do was to keep a close eye on his hands to make sure they didn't become infected.

"Scully!" Mulder interrupted my thoughts.

"Hmm?" I looked up to find that we were alone.

"What were you thinking about?"

I only shrugged, no wanting to start the argument again.

"Jack found out what Dasan's punishment will be," Mulder continued, apparently unaware of my concerns. "He came to tell me while you were seeing Chachu."

"And?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

"He's going to be shunned," Mulder's face was grim.

"Shunned?" I was shocked. "For how long?"

"One day, from sunrise tomorrow to sunrise the following day."

"Overnight, Mulder? But he's just a child." It seemed extreme to me.

"I said the same thing, Scully, but he was basically tried as an adult. He stole something and then used it to injure someone."

"But he didn't mean to," I argued.

"Yes, but the reason he took the knife was to prove how grown up he was. Now he is being punished like an adult."

It sounded like Mulder was repeating what Jack had said. I was sure he'd made all the same arguments I was making.

"Shunning him will remind him that he is dependent on the people here, that everyone depends on each other. If they can't trust him, he isn't welcome here."

"I know the theory, Mulder," I frowned. "But the nights are cold now. What will he eat?" I could understand why his mother was so upset.

"He'll be fine, Scully. I'm sure he knows how to take care of himself in the woods better than we do, and we did all right," he pointed out.

"I guess," I muttered, not bothering to remind him that it was midsummer, not late fall, when we were fending for ourselves. There was no point debating the issue with Mulder. We wouldn't be able to change the elders' minds. "So we can't talk to him for a day?"

"We can't acknowledge his existence for a day," Mulder clarified. "It will be like he's dead."

"If only we hadn't brought those damned knives," I felt tears sting at my eyes.

"Then something Jack brought back would've caught his eye. We didn't make him take it. He knew the rules and chose to break them. He also knew what the punishment would probably be," Mulder settled into the bed.

"Does that make you feel any better?" I asked in disbelief.

"Not really," he shrugged. "But worrying about something you can't change won't make you feel any better either, will it?"

"I guess not," I sighed.

"He'll be fine, Scully. He'd be okay for a day, even if he couldn't find anything to eat. You know that. And he'll have plenty to drink. He'll be a little hungry and a little cold, but he'll know better than take anything for granted again," Mulder tried to console me. "It's going to be a long day tomorrow, Scully. Come to bed," he nodded to the empty spot beside him.

Nodding, I slipped out of my dress. After blowing out the candle, I felt my way to my side of the bed and crawled under the covers.

"Goodnight, Mulder," I breathed as I pulled the blankets over my shoulder.

"Scully?"

"Yeah?" As worried as I was about Mulder, Dasan and Chachu, my need for rest was winning out and I was beginning to drift off already.

"Are you mad at me?" 

End chapter 12


	14. Chapter 13

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 13

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 13

"Mad at you?" I was confused. "Why would I be mad at you?" I rolled over to look at him but it was far too dark in the wigwam to see his face.

"I was a bit harsh earlier," he reminded me.

"About your hands?"

"Ya."

"And I was being unrealistic," I pointed out.

"So you aren't mad at me?"

"I'd actually forgotten all about that, Mulder. So much else has happened," I snuggled against him.

"Mmm," he sighed and pulled me closer. "I was in a lot of pain, Scully and I knew you were going to be upset. I wanted to reason with you, but that's not how it came out."

When he'd pulled me against him, I'd felt his erection pressing into my belly. I suddenly understood why he'd thought I was mad at him.

"I wasn't going to sleep because I was mad at you, Mulder. That would've kept me awake. I was falling asleep because I was exhausted," I explained.

"Oh," I could hear the disappointment in his voice.

"But I seem to have found my second wind," I wiggled against him.

"Good," he sighed. "'Cause I was really hoping you'd be up for some sexual healing," he slid one hand under me while the fingers of his other hand had found my breast. Neither hand seemed to be any the worse for wear.

"I thought maybe you might want to rest your hands," I tried not to let him hear that I was already aroused.

"Oh, I do," he said emphatically and rolled to his back, pulling me with him. "That's why you're gonna be on top." His tone was mischievous.

"Mmm, okay," I pressed my lips to his neck and my belly to his cock. Then I pushed his arms over his head as my lips found his mouth. "Let me know if anything I do is too much for you in your weakened state," I paused, hoping I'd turned the tables on him.

"I'm fine," he assured me breathily.

I smiled at my success and then resumed plundering his mouth. I still had his arms pinned over his head and I could feel him trying to move them.

"You need to rest your hands, remember?" I lifted my lips to remind him as I caressed his chest with my breasts.

I only got a groan in response. I kissed his open mouth hungrily as I began to writhe on top of him. I was hoping I'd be able to get him inside of me without having to move my hands. His arms fought against me but he had no leverage.

"Scully, please," his breathing was labored.

"Please what?" I continued to torment him. Just as he took a breath to answer me, his cock finally slid into me making us both groan. "Is that what you wanted?" I asked, knowing it wasn't.

"Please!"

"What, Mulder?" I moved as best I could while still keeping his arms immobile. "What do you want?"

"Please, I need to touch you," he begged me.

"You are touching me," I countered. "I'm lying on top off you. How could you not be touching me?" I let my breasts play against his chest again.

"With my hands, Scully, please," he continued to plead.

"You need to rest your hands," I argued as I rubbed myself against him. "You just be still and let me, mmm -" I took a slow breath as I rocked a little more firmly. "Let me –," my voice was more insistent as I ground against him. "God, Mulder," I moaned as I began to quake.

When I started to climax I must have released my grip on his arms, because I felt his hands on my hips. He held me firmly against him as I shook. As soon as I began to quiet, Mulder rolled me to my back. One of his hands was on my breast; the other must have been holding him up. He plunged his tongue into my mouth as he fucked me. Soon he was breathing too hard to continue to kiss me. I felt his breath on my neck instead. I moved with him, feeling heat beginning to build in my belly again.

"Feels so good," I panted.

"Yes," his voice was raspy. "So good."

I felt his body tighten and he began to thrust even harder. As he began to shudder I succumbed with him. We clung to each other until our breathing had calmed. I was expecting him to complain about how I'd teased him, but he only told me softly how much he loved me as we drifted off to sleep.

Before we began to make love, I'd been worried about Dasan having no shelter, but I'd fallen asleep in my post-orgasmic fog, without thinking about him again. When I opened my eyes the next morning, however, he was my first thought. We'd been getting heavy frosts every night so I knew he was going to have to find some way to keep warm or he wouldn't make it through tonight if he fell asleep. When I left the warmth of the wigwam, I looked around quickly, but I didn't see him. I thought he might be skulking around the edges of the camp, but if he was, he was well hidden.

I was quiet while I prepared our breakfast. Omiga stopped by to redress Mulder's hands. They did seem significantly better than they has the night before but I still didn't think he should work the again so soon. I knew what kind of response my worries would get, so I said nothing. Everyone else seemed to be getting on with their morning routines. If anyone was as worried as I was about Dasan, they didn't show it.

"I'm sure he's fine," Mulder read my mind.

"It's been awfully cold," I kept my voice low.

I poured a cup of the poplar tea and stirred two teaspoons of sugar into it. Mulder didn't balk when I handed it to him.

"I'm sure he knows how to keep himself warm enough, Scully," he assured me. "But I'll keep my eye out this morning and I'll let you know if I see him as soon as I can, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded, feeling marginally better.

"I wish I could see you at lunch," he sighed as he handed me his empty porridge bowl.

"I know," I gave him a little smile. "But yesterday Omiga and I were busy with Chachu, anyway. Let's pray for a much calmer day, today."

"We can only hope," he stood up and stretched his arms overhead. "I'm getting quite the workout," he chuckled ruefully.

"I was so sure the work in Madison would have prepared you," I stood up as well.

"I'm sure it did for the actual building, just not the logging part," he assured me.

"But you think you'll be done with that today?" I asked hopefully.

"Probably," he nodded. "We may need a couple of extra trees at some point, but tomorrow we start building," he smiled at me. "I'm gonna talk to Jack about you coming to the building site."

"Thanks, Mulder," I smiled. I wasn't sure if I'd ever get use to my new place, but having Mulder stick up for me helped.

Thinking about the work on the cabin excited me, but that was quickly diminished by my worry about his hands. I picked them up and kissed each hand softly, but neither of us said anything about him continuing to work.

"I'll be right back," he gave me a quick kiss.

As promised, Mulder returned promptly. "I talked Jack into it," he grinned. "I said I didn't get to see enough and you were anxious to see our progress."

"That's great," I smiled up at him. "I'll see you when the sun is overhead."

"I'll hold you to that," he smiled and leaned in to give me another kiss. "Have a good morning."

I watched Mulder as he met up with Jack and left the camp, heading north. I wished I could go with them, but I had more than enough here to keep me busy. I'd just finished cleaning up after breakfast when I saw Wanik heading toward me carrying a couple of baskets; one very large, bigger than a laundry basket and the other only about the size of a mixing bowl. She said something to me and nodded her head to the west.

"I have to check on Chachu first," I told her. At the mention of his name, she put the baskets down and began to walk with me to Chachu's family's wigwam. Inside Chachu was sitting up eating his breakfast. That was a good sign.

"Can I look at your leg, please?" I asked, pointing to my thigh.

His mother said something and Chachu pulled his blanket down. I'd just gotten to my knees to remove the dressing when I heard the rumbling of Omiga's voice. I smiled to myself, thinking it must be time for morning rounds and he'd visited Mulder first because he knew Mulder had work to do. When the bandages were off, I was very relieved to see that the wound hadn't oozed any more blood. It looked dry and only a little red and swollen, but considering what had happened yesterday, with the wound and the rudimentary stitches, some swelling was to be expected. Omiga groaned a little as he got to his knees to join me.

He began speaking to me and picked up the poultice bag. I assumed he was going to change it. I had consummate faith in his abilities as a healer, so whatever he'd said he was going to do was fine with me. He said something else to Chachu as Wanik helped him back to his feet. I would have told Chachu to stay off his feet, so I was hoping that's what Omiga had said. When we got outside Omiga began to talk to me again, but Wanik shook her head and said something else to which Omiga only nodded. I had to guess that what Wanik wanted to do was more important.

We walked back to Jack's wigwam and Wanik picked up both baskets. She handed the smaller one to me, stoked my fire with a couple of smallish logs and then we began to walk. As we crunched through the fallen leaves she pointed to different trees and told me their names, at least that's what I assumed she was telling me. After a few minutes, she sounded a little more excited and pointed to the ground. Scattered around the base of one of the trees were lots of spiky fruit. It looked like the fruit had once been green, but they were now mostly brown. I had no idea what they were. I suspected that they were nuts, but my trusty Indian guide had told me these weren't the right kind of trees. If my suspicions were correct, I'd have to decide if I wanted to bug him about it or not.

She showed me how to pick them up by the stems and we filled about half of my basket with them. Then we kept walking in a south-westerly direction. I saw more of the fruit we'd picked up, but we didn't stop. We walked for about another 15 minutes when I began to hear the sound of water. It was louder than the river, but not as loud as rapids that we'd crossed on our way to and from Madison.

When I finally saw the source of the sound, I realized it was a small waterfall. I couldn't figure out why Wanik had brought me there with a basket. The first thing she did when we got there was to put a couple of large rocks into her basket. Then to my surprise she dropped it into the stream so the water was falling directly into it. The top of the basket stuck out of the water about four inches. The only thing I could fathom was that this must be a way to catch fish, but I couldn't ever remember seeing a fish going over a waterfall. Only time would tell.

She nodded back in the direction of the camp and we turned and walked back. There was no sign of Dasan anywhere. I wondered if Wanik was on the lookout too, but even if I'd known how to ask her, I wouldn't have, out of respect for her beliefs. On the way we stopped and gathered a lot of acorns. I knew acorns weren't poisonous, but I remember trying them as a kid and they tasted horrible. Even though we picked up a lot of acorns, they didn't take up much room in the basket, mostly falling beneath the spiky fruit. The rest of the basket was filled with a different kind of thistly looking tree fruit.

Once back at the camp Wanik told me to go and get some water. When I arrived back at my fire, she was waiting with a large flat rock and a couple of smaller ones. She took a small knife out of her belt and nodded at me to get mine. She came with me and inspected my pots and bowls. She picked up two enamelled tin plates and nodded, looking pleased. She also picked up a couple of cups and a medium-sized cast iron pot. She looked around at everything again, like there was something else she wanted.

"Makakoon?" she looked puzzled.

I held up my hands to let her know I didn't know what she meant and bless her heart; she never seemed to get frustrated by the language barrier. Instead she turned around and walked back toward the fire put down the things she'd collected and picked up the basket we'd brought back.

"Makak," she held it up.

"Oh, basket," I smiled but then shook my head. That was something I hadn't brought.

She said something as she handed me the basket and turned on her heel but all I caught was 'a anind' and had no idea what it meant. I had no idea how long it would take in this immersion process before I'd start catching on. I hoped I wasn't too old. Wanik returned shortly with two more baskets and sat down near the stone.

"Onabi," she patted the ground beside her, so I sat down, which got me a smile. She put the basket of acorns, spiky and thistly fruit in front of us and began to sort, leaving the acorns.

I wanted to show her that I was trying to learn the language, so I pointed at the baskets and said "Makak," with a proud smile, but was surprised when she shook her head. I had been so sure I understood.

"Makak," she picked up one basket, which clarified nothing for me. "Makakoon," she picked up all three.

"Oh," I finally got it. I held up one finger. "Makak," and then two fingers and said "Makakoon."

"Eya," she nodded with a smile and then held up two, then three, then four fingers and said "Makakoon."

"Eya," I repeated what I thought meant yes. So makak meant basket and makakoon meant more than one basket.

She put the baskets back down and we continued to sort everything into their own baskets. When we were done I picked up an acorn and looked at her with questioning eyes.

"Mitigomin," she told me.

Then I grabbed a handful and asked, "Mitigominoon?"

"Jaawin," she shook her head with a laugh. I knew what that meant. "Mitigominan."

"I was close," I chuckled and she laughed with me. It seemed plurals in Mesquakie weren't going to be that easy. I held up the acorns again and said "Mitigominan," and made a face like I'd tasted something bad.

"Jaawin," she shook her head and waved her hand over our collection of kitchen implements.

"Oh, okay," I nodded. Whatever we were about to do was going to make the mitigominan more palatable.

She then started to explain something but she was talking too fast. I settled for watching what she was doing. She set the acorns aside and picked up the basket of the first spiky brownish fruit we'd picked up. She took her knife and began to cut down the center of the fruit. When she'd sliced all the way around, she inserted the knife into the slice and began to pry at the rind. When it came away, I was surprised at what I saw inside.

"A walnut," I smiled and picked another one up and mimicked her actions.

"Bagaan," she smiled.

In no time we had a basket of about twenty walnuts. The prickly fruits turned out to be chestnuts and in ten minutes we had two baskets of nuts. Now there was some protein I could add to Mulder's porridge. While we were working we had to keep an eye on the fire and keep it going.

The walnuts and chestnuts were easy compared to what we had to do with the acorns. Once we'd opened them up and inspected them for worms, we found a couple that Wanik tossed into the fire, we put them in the tin plates. When we'd shelled them all, Wanik got to her knees, picked up her rock and began to mash the acorn meat. I followed suit and in 15 minutes we had plates full of acorn meal. Then Wanik took one of the cups and filled in from the pot of water I'd fetched. She carefully covered the acorn meal with water and then began to swirl the plate like she was panning for gold. To my amazement the water began to turn brown. Then she stood up and walked over to where the grasses hadn't been trampled down and drained the water out. Again, I copied what she had done. After several rinsings she dipped her finger in and tasted the water.

"Jaawin," she shook her head, making a face.

I had to retrieve a second pot of water and we used almost all of it before we'd washed all of the bitter taste out of the acorn meal. Then Wanik went back to my kitchen supplies, but didn't see what she wanted. She pointed to the wigwam.

"Okay," I nodded.

She beckoned with her finger for me to come with her. Once inside she found my clothes and began to look through them. I'd brought three petticoats with me, thinking I might need them for warmth. She held one of them up and looked at me, asking for approval.

"Okay," I shrugged. I was sure I'd get by with two.

I watched as she found the seam and I realized she was going to tear it.

"Wait!" My tone made her stop. I fished around in the sewing basket I'd brought and got my scissors. I held my hand out and she passed me the petticoat with a smile. When I'd opened it up into a large piece of fabric Wanik took it from me and held out her hand, asking for the scissors. She cut it again, giving us two pieces. We went back outside and Wanik spread the cloth on the flat rock and scooped the acorn meal into it. Then she folded up the cloth, picked it up and began to squeeze the excess water out. I followed suit. When we could get no more water out, Wanik put her cloth back down on the rock, opened it up and spread the acorn meal out. Then she reached for mine and combined the two. She then took my damp cloth and laid it on the wigwam, on the sunny side. It was something that never would have occurred to me as a way to dry something. I didn't bother to point out that I'd set up a clothesline.

I hoped we were done, but Wanik put the pot into the fire, sat down again and beckoned me to join her. It was time to work on the chestnuts. That process was much simpler though. She showed me how to cut exes into the chestnuts and then we put them all into the pot. She retrieved a long handled metal spoon from my things and began to stir the chestnuts and then handed the spoon to me. It wasn't long before I could feel beads of sweat rolling off of my forehead. After about ten minutes Wanik looked into the pot. I could see that the skins of the chestnuts were starting to curl open where we'd cut them. I suddenly realized why roasting chestnuts was a Christmas tradition. It would've been too bloody hot to do this at any other time. When Wanik was satisfied with how much they'd opened, she lifted the pot off of the fire using the spoon and set it aside to cool. Then she looked up and pointed at the sun. It wasn't quite overhead, we probably had an hour. She took the cloth back from the side of the wigwam and covered up the acorn meal and said "Giigoonh," nodding in the direction we'd gone this morning. "Makak," she turned around to remind me. She was right. If we were going to be walking through the woods to the stream, it was a good idea to bring a basket along and gather nuts along the way. Once I retrieved it we headed off in the direction of the stream.

My suspicions about the basket that Wanik had put under the waterfall were correct. When we returned to check, we'd caught six large fish. She found a large branch and carefully threaded through the coarsely woven basket. When she attempted to lift the basket out of the stream, the branch snapped, making her heave a large sigh. I knew we didn't have much time if we were going to get these fish back to cook them for lunch. Since Wanik had already seen me naked, I decided to strip and jump in. She laughed at me when she realized what I was doing but shrugged. I let out a yelp when I hit the water. The coldness took my breath away, but I forged ahead. First I pulled the basket away from the waterfall, then reached in and took out the rocks. Then I slowly lifted the basket allowing the water to drain out. When I could manage, I passed it to Wanik. When she set it down, I reached for her hand.

"Jaawin," she shook her head. "Inashke," she pointed to the other bank and smiled. "Zhigaagawanshiig!"

I was standing in icy water and she was trying to show me something. I walked to where she was pointing, realizing it must be important, and saw some plants growing on the grassy bank.

"These?" I looked back at her.

"Eya," she nodded vigorously.

I picked them as quickly as I could and waded back. She reached for my hand this time and helped me out. As soon as I hand my clothes back on, she put her arms around me. I thought at first she was thanking me, but when she started to rub my back, I knew she was warming me up.

"Okay, I'm warmer now," I backed away after a couple of minutes. "Let's go back," I nodded in the direction of the camp.

"Bekaa," she shook her head and looked around. She walked toward another fallen branch and picked it up. She put it through the basket like she had with the first branch and we used it to carry the basket back to camp. I had my basket of nuts in my other hand, and Wanik was carrying the plants I'd picked.

When we got back, she took out the biggest fish and gave it to me. "Mulder miinawaa Elan," she nodded toward the fish.

"Okay," I nodded, assuming she'd asked me to cook lunch for both the men, when I heard both of their names. "And Wanik and Dana," I nodded toward the large fish.

"Eya," she smiled, nodding in agreement and left with the rest of the fish.

I took the fish to the spot where we'd cleaned the grouse. I cleaned it quickly and threw what I didn't want into the woods. I decided to make some bannock and coat the fish in cornmeal and fry it in a bit of the lard we'd brought. I made up two heaping plates but it still left more than enough for Wanik and me. After grabbing a couple forks, I covered the remaining fish with a tea towel and began to walk in the direction Mulder and Jack had gone. I didn't know exactly where to go, but I figured I could find it easily enough from Mulder's description. I also thought I'd be able to hear them before I saw them. I'd only gone a few feet when I heard Wanik's voice.

"Day-na, bekaa!"

I turned to see her hurrying toward me with two bowls in her hands. She'd also made something. They were going to be well fed. The spot Mulder and Jack had picked was no more than five minutes from the village. The reason we hadn't heard them that morning was because they were dragging the trees from further away, leaving the trees that were around the small clearing as shelter. There were stacks and stacks of logs piled up, but no sign of Mulder and Elan. I was wondering if I should start shouting for Mulder, when Wanik put her fingers into her mouth and let out a shrill whistle. Seconds later a similar whistle responded.

"Onabi," she nodded toward one of the larger logs, so we sat down and waited for them. While we sat, I gazed at the site our cabin would be built on. It was set on a bend in the stream. The bend had created a large quiet pool in front of the site. It was covered by knee-high grass and surrounded by oaks on three sides.

"It's beautiful," I sighed.

"Eya," Wanik nodded, although how she knew what I meant, I had no idea.

It wasn't long until I heard them. I could hear that they were dragging a tree with them. I turned in the direction of the sound to look for them. They were about 50 feet away. It looked like they had some kind of hooks in the tree, almost like ice hooks. They were leaning forward as they walked, using their legs for power. I was surprised at how fast they were moving. When they were within 10 feet of us, they dropped the log and Mulder went to the far end and swung his hook again. It hit the wood with a thud. Both men grunted as they then lifted the log and placed it in the smaller pile.

"Hi," I beamed at him when he finally turned his attention to me. "This spot is gorgeous, Mulder. Are you hungry? How are your hands?" I handed him his plate. "Here, Jack," I gave him his plate too. "I hope you like it. I hope it's not too cold." I couldn't believe how much I was babbling.

"I am hungry," Mulder nodded, "And my hands are okay." He sat on a log and I sat beside him, watching him eat.

"Why are you still felling, trees?" I asked. "I thought you were going to be barking the logs today?"

"We decided to add a lean-to at the back for storage, away from the heat fireplace will generate. We decided that barking the logs was a luxury we didn't need; the storage space, we will. The bark will peel off of its own accord anyway," he explained. "So our schedule hasn't really changed. The floor should be done tomorrow, the walls, the next day and then the fireplace and the roof."

"So not one day?"

"One day to get the walls up," Jack clarified.

While we'd been talking, Wanik handed both men one of the bowls she'd brought. She murmured something to Jack when we were quiet again.

"Wanik says this wild rice is a special treat, thanks to Day-na," he grinned.

Mulder took a forkful of his rice at Jack's words. "It is good," he smiled. "Is that garlic, I taste?"

"I don't know what garlic is," Jack shrugged. "This is wild onion."

"Close enough," Mulder chuckled. "Why is it a treat?"

"It's rare to get them this time of year," Jack explained.

"And why is it thanks to you?" Mulder turned his head to look at me.

"Long story," I rolled my eyes.

"We have time for a story, don't we, Jack?" Mulder grinned.

So while they ate, I told Mulder everything that had happened that morning. Jack's eyes grew wide when I reached the part about stripping off and jumping into the water. Wanik murmured a question and Jack nodded. They both laughed when I explained that Wanik had asked me to stay in the icy water and wade to the other side of the stream to harvest the onions.

"This fish is really good, Day-na," Jack praised me when I'd finished. "How did you prepare it?"

"With cornmeal and lard," I explained.

"This cornmeal is really good," he nodded and then said something to Wanik. "I'm going to see if they have any in Green Bay when I take the furs in. Maybe tomorrow you can teach Wanik to make the cornbread?" he suggested, hopefully.

"Of course," I nodded. "We've just been so busy." I apologized.

"I understand," he nodded.

"Is there anything I could send with you to trade?" I asked hopefully. I thought I hadn't brought enough lard.

"If Mulder shoots a deer, I could take the skin and the meat in for trade. That would get you all the lard you could want," he laughed. "People pay a lot for fresh meat."

"Could you get it to Green Bay when it's still fresh?" I was doubtful.

"I have a canoe not half an hour from here and I can take it most of the way; only a couple of portages. It takes about 3 days. At this time of year the meat will be more than fresh," he explained.

"And what are the chances that Mulder will get a deer before you leave?" I was afraid of getting my hopes up.

"We scared a couple of deer when we got here, this morning," Mulder informed me.

"You know, if we stayed here later, you could probably get one today, Mulder. They come back out to feed just before the sun sets." Jack suggested. "It shouldn't take me long to teach you how to use your new rifle since you already know something about guns."

"It's back at camp," he shook his head.

"I'll bring it back for you," I offered.

"Okay," he nodded. "Just leave it on this woodpile, if I'm not here."

"Sure," I agreed quickly.

"And if you get one today, you'll have plenty of food for a while. And it will give you time to get another for me to trade in Green Bay," Jack pointed out. "Well, girls," Jack patted his belly. "That was really good, but we have to get back to work." Then he murmured something to Wanik that made her smile.

"How is your water, Jack?" Mulder held out his hand. "Do you want me to fill it? I need more."

"Thanks," Jack pulled his water skin off and handed it to Mulder.

"Walk with me," Mulder reached for my hand. I was relieved to see that leather strips that Omiga had used were holding up and didn't appear to be bloody. I slipped my hand into his and held it, happily. When we were closer to the stream, he lowered his voice to talk to me. "Dasan is fine."

"Oh, thank God," I breathed. "Where did you see him?"

"He was watching us work from a distance."

"Mulder, you better be positive it's a deer you're shooting later," I had a sudden horrible thought.

"Don't worry," he said as he knelt by the stream to refill the skins. "It won't be that dark and I promise to be extra vigilant."

When I looked back toward Jack and Wanik, I caught them kissing. I looked away quickly. I suspected they got very little private time together. Mulder saw what I was looking at and smiled.

"I wouldn't mind a kiss," Mulder grinned as he stood up.

"I don't think Wanik feels that way about you," I tried to keep a straight face.

"Funny," his eyes had darkened. "Good thing it's you I want to kiss," he reached out suddenly and grabbed me. I let out a squeal of surprise as he pulled me into his arms. When his mouth closed over mine, I couldn't help sighing. "I can't wait until we can spend more time together," he pulled out of our kiss, "Especially after your skinny dipping story."

"I know," I gave him another soft kiss. "That's one of the reasons we came back here, after all. But it shouldn't be too much longer, should it?"

"A week, maybe," he nodded. "By then we should have a roof over our heads, and an outhouse. That's another reason we need more logs. I can work on the well once we're in. It'll just need to be finished before the river freezes, which Jack says will be in about a month, depending on the weather, so we should have lots of time."

Mulder was talking about things I hadn't even thought of. The thought of using an outhouse in the middle of a Wisconsin winter did not thrill me, especially in the middle of the night. I knew that as I got further along in my pregnancy, there was going to be more and more pressure on my bladder.

"What?" Mulder must have been able to see me thinking.

"Can you ask Jack if he might be able to find me something in Green Bay that I could use as a chamber pot? It won't be long before I have to pee every hour on the hour and if I have to trudge out to an outhouse...,"

"I'll see what I can do," he chuckled. "Okay, I have to go. Jack is looking this way."

"I'll bring the gun right away," I told him as we walked back toward them.

I watched Mulder and Jack head back into the woods for a couple of minutes before I turned, joined Wanik and walked back to the village. When I returned with the gun, the men were nowhere to be seen, but I could hear the axes ringing in the distance. My heart ached with love for Mulder when I thought about everything he was doing for me. My plan was intended to make our lives easier, but it seemed they would have to be significantly harder first.

End chapter 13


	15. Chapter 14

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 14

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 14

When I got back to camp, I discovered that Wanik had managed to warm our food up and I ate it hungrily. Mulder was right. The wild onion did have a garlicky taste. I had to wonder how long it would be until we had fresh greens to eat again. Sometime next spring, I figured. When Wanik was done, I took her plate and gathered up the rest of the dishes. I fetched some water and warmed it on up on the fire and cleaned the lunch dishes. When everything was put away, I planned to work on more of the walnuts and chestnuts I'd gathered, but just as I sat down, I saw one of the young girls, called Aiyana, skipping across the compound toward me with her hands full. I couldn't tell what she was carrying at first, but then I realized it was strips of something; possibly bark or thin strips of wood. I knew right away I was going to be spending my afternoon basket weaving. It didn't surprise me in the least when the first words out of her mouth were biidoo-nibi so I left with my pot to get the water. A couple of hours later I had four baskets; two larger and two smaller.

If asked, I would have guessed that Aiyana was 10 or 11 years old. I am positive that I did not have her patience when I was 10. The entire time we worked, she chattered away to me. I recognized some of the words, but I had no idea what she was talking about. I was fairly sure she what she was saying wasn't instructional. I think she was just chatting. Aiyana made one basket, patiently showing me each step as I worked on the other. Once we'd made the bottoms, and were weaving the sides, her nimble little fingers flew and she finished her basket quickly and waited for me to catch up so she could show me to finish the top and make the handle. We'd started with the small baskets and mine was obviously more ragged, but still completely functional. The larger basket was harder to make, but it still turned out better than the smaller one had. For the large baskets we made holes in the sides to use as handles.

"Miigwech, Aiyana," I smiled at her when she got up to leave. She covered her mouth as she giggled and then waved me off with her hand before she trotted back toward her parent's fire.

There was still plenty of light, so I decided that it might be a good time to teach Wanik how to make my pan-fried corn bread. Mulder and Jack were going to be late, and maybe bringing venison, so I didn't want to make anything. My only other option was salt pork, so I had my fingers crossed for the venison. I took the nuts I collected and transferred them into my own baskets. I gathered up Wanik's baskets and went to find her. She was sitting at her fire doing some beadwork on a pair of gloves. The pattern she was working on was very intricate. I was secretly pleased to see her using the thimble I'd brought her.

"Kwe-kwe, Wanik," I greeted her.

"Kwe-kwe, Day-na," she smiled up at me.

"Miigwech," I smiled and handed her the baskets.

"Jaawin," she shook her head at me and stood up. She took the two extra baskets she'd brought, but pushed the original basket she'd brought back toward me.

"Oh, miigwech, Wanik," I smiled at her but she waved me off, just like Aiyana had. "Come with me," I nodded toward my fire, but she furrowed her brow at me, not understanding. So I crooked my finger at her, and nodded toward my fire again.

"Enange," she nodded and came with me. I could tell she wasn't sure what I wanted until I pulled out the cornmeal. She watched closely as I put the cornmeal, flour, baking soda, salt, and water into a mixing bowl and began to mix it. I had no measuring devices, so I had to eyeball everything. I used the palm of my hand to measure the salt and the baking soda. Then I put my skillet on the fire and put a generous dollop of lard in it. Once it had melted, I poured it into my batter, leaving enough to grease the pan, making sure that Wanik saw that I'd left some back. Then I took a spoonful of the batter and let it run back into the bowl to check the consistency.

"Jaawin," I shook my head. It was still too thick. I added another splash of water and stirred it up again. This time when I checked, the consistency was perfect. "Eya," I nodded and showed her again.

I made sure the skillet was in a cooler part of the fire and poured my batter into the skillet. I'd made enough of it on our trip back that I knew now how much batter to make to fill the skillet about halfway. Then I took one of the tin plates and used it to cover the skillet. It would take about 20 minutes to cook.

"I'll just wash this while we wait," I told Wanik. I brought my big pot to the lake with me as well. We'd brought dried beans with us and if I was going to use them, I needed to soak them overnight. If Mulder got a deer, we could have soup made with venison, if not, salt pork. When we got back to the fire I peaked at the cornbread. It needed another 10 minutes. After I put the beans in to soak I sat down to wait. Sitting there with Wanik was nice, but I wanted so badly to just be able to talk to her. I loved her sense of humor. She was patient with me, and very smart from what I could see. Not to mention more talented than I could ever hope to be.

"I wish we could talk, Wanik," I said aloud. My words only made her furrow her brow at me. "Never mind," I smiled. I was reaching to pat her knee when I heard the crack of a gun from north of the camp. Both of our heads turned in that direction immediately.

"Mulder," Wanik smiled and added more words I didn't recognize. I was hoping he'd got a deer, maybe Wanik was hoping the same. It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't been able to warn anyone else that Mulder was hoping to shoot a deer. I knew they thought guns meant white people and they didn't want white people to know they were here. When I looked around the village, no one seemed agitated, and I'd seen them agitated before, so I knew what it looked like. Wanik must have told everyone.

When I checked the bread again, it was done. I had used enough lard that it slipped out of the pan easily onto a plate. I cut the bread in half and handed it to Wanik. She thanked me and went back to her fire. I had no idea how long Jack and Mulder would be, assuming they'd actually shot a deer. Would they bring it back here, or dress it there? I had nothing else to cook, so I went back to working on the nuts I collected. I threw the husks of the walnuts and chestnuts into the fire and was pondering if I should roast the chestnuts now, or if I should just wait until I was going to use them when Wanik showed up at my fire again; this time carrying a leather bag.

"What's this?" I asked as she handed it to me. The bag weighed about 2 pounds and when I opened it I found Wanik had given me dried corn. I thanked her profusely, but I was going to have to talk to Jack. I couldn't keep taking food out of Wanik's mouth. The cornbread I'd given her was certainly not worth two pounds of dried corn. Maybe when he went to Green Bay there would be enough left out of the money he got from the deer, assuming Mulder got one, to buy something for Wanik in exchange for everything she'd given us.

I added the bag of corn to the supplies I was keeping just in side the door of the wigwam. When we'd been gathering everything up, the large bags of flour, oatmeal and cornmeal, smaller bags of beans, sugar and dried fruit and the crocks of salt pork and lard had seemed like a lot. However, even with the wild rice and dried blueberries that Migisi had given me and the smoked meat from Abequa, when I added the bag of corn and thought about the few nuts I'd gathered, it didn't seem like enough to get us through the winter. If Jack could get us more lard, I was going to have to add it to our food, just for the calories. We were definitely going to need game to survive. No sooner had the thought crossed my mind when another shot rang out from the north.

It had been about half an hour since I heard the first shot, which I now assumed had to have missed. If this shot hit, they were still going to be a while. I'd brought Mulder a substantial lunch, but by the time they got back, it was going to be much later than our normal supper time. He was going to be hungry and I was worried that I didn't have enough for him to eat. I could have just given him lots of cornbread and venison, but I decided to take advantage of the wild rice Migisi had given me and the jerky Abequa had given me. In no time I had the rice simmering on the fire with some jerky for flavor. I was just about to crack a few walnuts to add to the rice when I heard Jack's voice. Whatever he'd said made the most of the young men run in the direction of his voice. I wasn't sure if I should be worried or not and then I saw Wanik hurrying toward me. To my relief she had a big smile on her face. She took my hand and made me trot with her. When we got to the edge of the camp, I was surprised to see the two of the young men carrying a large buck and behind them, Mulder was dragging something else on a makeshift travois.

"Did you get two, Mulder?" I asked in awe.

"Ya," he beamed at me.

"Your man's a crack shot," Jack slapped him on the back. "Clean kills, both times!"

The young men had carried the buck to the far side of the camp and were now busy tying a rope around its hind feet.

"Apparently everyone really prizes the organ meat, so I'm happy to give it to them," Mulder was now close enough to tell me quietly.

"Of course," I agreed quickly. "I'm not crazy about organ meat."

"Ya me either, but Jack says I have to go and eat a piece of the raw liver. It's symbolic, or something," he wrinkled his nose.

"Just slurp in down, like an oyster," I suggested. "You'll hardly taste it and you won't have to deal with the texture. I have to go take care of something on the fire. I'll be right back."

Everyone was gathered around Jack and Mulder when I got back. Jack was talking and holding his hands up like he was shooting, so I surmised that he was telling everyone about Mulder's success. He continued for another couple of minutes, getting oohs and ahhs as he went. When he finished there was a lot of excited talking, but everyone quieted when Jack picked up the liver and sliced a strip of it off for Mulder. He took my advice and just swallowed it whole, which got a whoop from the crowd. Then he went around the circle and cut a small piece for everyone, including me. There was still a small piece left when he was done, so he and Jack split it. I thought we were done, but Jack picked up a second liver and started the process again. The buck the young men had taken away must have been eviscerated too, but left whole aside from that. After the second liver was gone, everyone in the village went up and gave Mulder a slap on the arm. I think it was their version of a handshake.

When Jack began dividing up the organ meat, Mulder picked up the travois and nodded in the direction of our fire.

"Jack already cut some of this up for us. I told him I didn't know how," Mulder explained as we walked. "The rest I'm going to have to bury right away so nothing can get at it. Do you have anything I can wrap it in?"

"Sure," I nodded and ducked into our wigwam.

"Are you sure?" he asked when I handed him my second last petticoat. He didn't know that I'd already used another one earlier.

"I only brought them in case I was cold, but I have dresses and a coat. This is far more important."

"Okay," he nodded. "Here," he bent and retrieved a roast-sized piece of venison and handed it to me. "Where's the shovel?"

"Leaning up against the back of the wigwam," I informed him, still looking at the five pounds of meat in my hand. I'd decided I was going to cut it into steaks when Jack joined me.

"Two deer!" he grinned at me.

"It's fantastic," I agreed as I knelt to cut the meat.

"Want me to do that?" he knelt beside me.

"Sure, thank you," I moved aside. "I need to ask you something, Jack."

"What?" he replied distractedly.

"I really don't want to offend anyone, though," I told him hesitantly.

At my words he stopped cutting and turned to look at me. "What is it?"

"I really feel like we're taking advantage, Jack. Everyone has given us so much, especially you and Wanik. You're helping Mulder with the house and the deer. And Wanik, well, she has to spend so much time with me; teaching me all of the things I don't know how to do, like fishing and gathering nuts and then she today she gave me a basket and dried corn...,"

As the words spilled out of my mouth, I felt tears welling up in my eyes and they started to stream down my cheeks. I had no idea why I was crying.

"Let me get Wanik," he jumped up, leaving the meat on the rock in front of the fire. It seemed like tears were something that freaked out all men, regardless of culture. By the time they got back, I'd managed to regain my composure.

"Okay, Day-na, I told Wanik what you were worried about and she says she's more than happy to help you. She likes spending time with you and you are teaching her things, too. As for the corn, that wasn't from her, everyone gave you some because of the fish you caught and the wild onions you picked. And tonight, you and Mulder shared your deer with everyone, so you are sharing with everyone the same way we are sharing with you. You are doing what any family does. No one thinks you're taking advantage. The buck Mulder gave me is more than fair payment for the work I've been doing with him. I would have been happy some of the venison from this doe, but Mulder insisted."

While Jack was explaining everything to me, Wanik moved closer to me and took my hand. I tried to smile at her, but I could feel that tears were starting to build up again and my mouth was wobbling. Wanik said something to Jack and squeezed my hand.

"She says she wishes she could talk to you," he translated for me.

Her words were the last straw for me. I threw my arms around her neck as I began sobbing in earnest.

"What's going on?" I heard Mulder's voice. "Scully, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing," I said through my tears as I moved from Wanik's embrace to his. "I'm fine."

"Scully," he sighed. "You're obviously not fine."

"Let me finish supper, I'll explain later," I told him.

"Wanik can cook it," Jack spoke up. "You sit with Mulder and talk to him." He said a few words to Wanik and she took over the cooking immediately.

So as Wanik prepared the venison I told Mulder about why I'd been upset and how Jack had explained how everything was just fine.

"And that made you cry, no - sob?" he looked at me in disbelief.

"Wanik says babies do that to women," Jack piped up.

As soon as he'd said it, I realized it true. My elevated hormones levels would definitely be affecting my mood. In combination with the stress of everything Mulder and I were coping with, it was more surprising that I hadn't turned into a blubbering fool much sooner.

"I still have to get some stones from the lake shore and then I'll be done, okay?" Mulder gave me a tight hug.

"I'll help," Jack got to his feet. I was sure he was going because he was worried that I'd start with the waterworks again.

When they were gone Wanik said something and left as well. I wasn't sure if she was coming back or not, but I got the feeling she was. While I waited, I picked up the walnuts I'd cracked and stirred them into the wild rice. Wanik got back before the men. She brought the cornbread I'd given her earlier. We divided everything up onto two plates and waited. The men returned shortly after and only spent a couple of minutes behind the wigwam. When they reappeared Mulder was carrying the deerskin.

"Here's something else we don't know how to do," he shook his head.

"Give it to Wanik," I said quickly.

Wanik and Jack both spoke at once. Wanik was shaking her head and Jack had repeated what he'd said about how much we share.

"Wanik says it's too much," Jack explained.

"It'll just go to waste," I explained. "I don't know how to stretch it or what else I might need to do to cure it. I'm sure Wanik could teach me, but there's already so much else going on right now. Maybe in the winter when everything slows down she could show me."

Jack translated what I'd said to Wanik and she thought for a minute, then smiled and replied.

"She's got an already stretched skin she'll trade you for it," he smiled.

"Deal," I laughed.

We ate our meal slowly, savouring the venison. I understood after that why people were willing to pay high prices for fresh meat. I couldn't imagine having to eat salt pork again. Everyone complimented me on the wild rice with walnuts and Jack was thrilled that I'd had a chance to teach Wanik how to make the cornbread. While Wanik and I were cleaning the dishes, Omiga showed up to look at Mulder's hands. Judging by the noises he was making, he'd seemed happy with they way they looked. He put more ointment on his palms and replaced the leather strips. When he was done he looked at me and said something about Chachu. I looked to Jack immediately to translate.

"He says Chachu's leg is healing well," Jack smiled.

"That's good news," I sighed.

Omiga smiled and trundled away. When the dishes were done Jack and Wanik left as well and then Mulder and I finally retreated to the wigwam. After lighting the candles he turned to look at me.

"Are you feeling better now?" he scanned my face.

"Much," I smiled. "I was worried and frustrated that I couldn't talk to Wanik about it, but she's right, Mulder, my hormones are in overdrive right now. I normally wouldn't get so upset in that situation. I felt kind of foolish, but I couldn't stop myself at the same time," I tried to explain how I was feeling.

"I'm glad Jack let us know that we are contributing, because I was worried about that too," he confessed as he began to undress. "Are you coming to bed?" he smiled at me as he took his breeches off.

"I assume you want me to leave the candles burning," I grinned at him. I could see that he was already hard.

"I do, but not for the reason you think," he held his hand out to me. "I mean, I do want to be able to see you. I miss you."

"God, I miss you too, Mulder," I flung my arms around him.

"It won't be long, Scully," he held me tightly. "I'm sure after we've been cooped up in a tiny cabin together for a couple of weeks we'll forget that we ever felt like we didn't get to see each other enough."

"Then remind me," I pressed my lips to his.

"Mmm," he agreed, returning my kiss briefly. "Let's get into bed. I'm getting cold."

"It doesn't show," I pressed against his erection.

"That's 'cause we're in complete agreement about what we want, me and the little man."

"Not so little," I grinned at him. "And didn't you say something about the reason you wanted to leave the candles burning?"

"I'd love to lay you down and make love to you right this instant, Scully. I want to kiss every inch of you. I want to hear the sounds you make and feel your skin against mine," his eyes gleamed at me. "But I know if we do that, we'll both fall asleep right after, won't we? And I need to spend some time with you. Right now that's the most important thing to me."

"God, I love you, Mulder," I breathed. "But saying things like that only makes me want you more," I told him as I pulled my dress off.

"Then come and lie down with me and I'll say more things like that," he helped me with the cotton underwear I wore under my doeskin dress. "You won't be able to resist me."

"I'm a sure thing, Mulder" I chuckled. "I have been for a very long time. And when have I ever resisted you?" I asked as I pulled the blankets back and lowered myself to our bed. "I kissed you every time you asked and I made love to you the instant I knew you felt the same way I did. There was never any resistance."

"Jesus, Scully," he practically dove into the bed with me. His mouth covered mine and he kissed me voraciously as his hand squeezed my breast. Even though his hand was swathed in leather, it still felt amazing. I could feel his cock throbbing against my hip, making me doubt that he was going to manage to spend time with me the way he wanted. When he broke our kiss, I reconsidered. "I want you on this side," he told me, his breathing ragged.

I was lying toward the back wall of the wigwam. Mulder was in between me and the candles, so he was casting a shadow onto me.

"Better?" I asked when we'd switched places.

"One more thing," he folded the blankets down to my waist. "There," he sighed, getting up onto one elbow to look at me. "Do you realize that I almost never get to see you naked?"

"We just had this conversation," I reminded him with a chuckle.

"I like to talk about seeing you naked," he smirked at me. "Is that okay?"

"If that's what makes you happy," I laughed again.

"You have no idea how happy it makes me, Scully," he breathed.

"Okay, " I tried to think back, "There was that one time when we were on our way to Madison."

"That one glorious time," he took a long shaky breath. "When you were having a bath in the stream, and the sun was shining down on you and then we made love in the grass."

"That was nice," I agreed as watched him looking at me. "The day after that you saw me naked in the boarding house, too," I reminded him.

"And that was the last time I saw you naked in the daylight," he nodded. "But this is good. You look beautiful in candlelight," he put his hand on my stomach and leaned in to kiss me softly. "Who am I kidding? You look beautiful in any light, Scully."

"So you wanted to spend naked time me?" I smiled at him.

"No, I'm multitasking," he grinned. "I have to make the best use of the time I have."

At that instant I knew what he was talking about. I hadn't seen this side of Mulder since we were in Madison, before we'd decided to come back here.

"I love you, Mulder," I put my hand up to cradle his cheek.

"Because I can multitask?" he leaned his face into my hand.

"Yes," I nodded. "And that's the only reason. C'mere," I pulled his face down to mine and kissed him.

As we kissed, his hand moved back to my breast. I made a contented noise into his mouth at the contact and immediately felt his cock throb against my hip in response. We continued to kiss as his hand left my breast and moved down toward my belly, where it came to rest. He lifted his face away from mine and looked in the direction of his hand.

"When will you start to show?" he asked as he pushed the blankets down further.

"Well," I began to think. "We arrived here August 6th, right?"

"Yup," he agreed.

"I had my last period about a week and a half before that. I must have conceived almost right away because I didn't have a period after that," I ran the timeline aloud.

"Okay," Mulder started to get a little fidgety. I gathered he really didn't want to discuss my menstrual cycle.

"We left Madison on October 25th and it took us ten days to get here," I continued.

"Right, so we got here on November 4th," he nodded. "And we've been back for two days."

"Has it only been two days?" I said in shock. "So much has happened."

"Well, this will be our third night, right?" he clarified.

"Wow," I shook my head. "So it's November 6th and that my last period was July 20th," I began counting with my fingers. "I'm about 15 weeks along," I told him with a big smile.

"Why are you smiling like that?" he looked puzzled.

"I'm past 12 weeks. 12 weeks is a big milestone, Mulder. Most miscarriages happen in the first 12 weeks," I explained.

"Don't even say the word," he shifted himself so he could kiss my belly. "And you still didn't answer my question."

"Well, the fetus is probably is only about 4 inches long and my uterus is – move for a second," I gave him a gentle push and reached down to palpate my abdomen. "It's still behind my pubic bone. Here, give me your hand," I took his hand and placed his fingers just above my pubis and pushed them down and under it slightly. "There, do you feel it? That's the top of my uterus."

"Ya," he replied shakily and bent over to kiss that spot. "But you still didn't answer my question."

"As soon as my uterus is too big to be contained under there, which will be any time now," I explained. "But even then it'll take a while before you can tell when I'm dressed," I continued my explanation, but he had returned to his elbow and was pondering my abdomen. "Question?" I prompted, having a sneaking suspicion about what was on his mind.

"Well," he furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. He took a breath to say something, but then just shook his head.

"Sex won't bother the baby, Mulder," I answered the question I thought he was trying to ask.

"But we have some pretty, um, energetic sex, Scully," he looked genuinely concerned.

"The baby is fine, I promise," I tried to assure him. "I'd have to have a serious fall or be in a car accident to sustain the kind of impact that might hurt the baby and even in those cases, babies still do amazingly well. My body is designed to protect the fetus, Mulder. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed.

"If I start to spot or cramp, it will be a different story and if I suspect that my amniotic sac –"

"Okay," he cut me off. "I'll trust you to let me know if anything changes."

"For a man who is willing to stick his fingers into any and all manner of goo, I find it amusing that talking about possible complications of my pregnancy disturbs you," I shook my head at him with a laugh.

"It's the clinical stuff that bugs me," he shrugged. "It's not sexy."

"Would you rather I talked dirty to you," I chuckled.

"Ya," he lay down beside me again.

"You are free to fuck me as hard as you like," I rolled to my side to tell him. "Is that better?"

"Ya," he pulled me closer.

"Good," I kissed his smiling lips. "Because I really like, um, energetic sex," I reached down to stroke his cock.

"Me too," his hand was on my ass, holding me against his erection. "But tonight," he kissed me softly, "I'd like to make love, if that's okay."

"I love the way it feels whenever you're inside of me, Mulder. I love all of the ways we have sex; when you can't control your lust, when you're feeling romantic, like now and when we're being playful, like last night."

"Ya, this kind of talk works much better for me," he pushed me onto my back and lowered his mouth to my breast.

When he drew my nipple I couldn't help groaning. "God, that feels good, Mulder."

As he switched breasts, I felt his knee between my legs, gently easing them apart. Once he was between my legs, he moved his mouth to mine. I put my legs around him as we kissed and slid my hands to his back. I groaned again as he slid into me.

"Love this, Scully," he broke our kiss and looked down at me. "I love the way this feels," he moved slowly above me. "I love the way you hold me."

"God," I groaned again. "It feels so good."

"I love the way you look at me. I can see how much you like this," his breathing was already getting labored. "I love that I can see it."

"Love this, Mulder," I could feel my eyes rolling back with every stroke.

"God, Scully, I can feel how much you enjoy this," his voice was getting strained.

"Mmm," I agreed as I moved with him.

"The way you tighten your legs around me, the way your nails dig into my back, the way your hips move to meet me every time, the way you feel inside," he finished by plunging his tongue into my mouth.

His slow strokes meant exaggerated contact with my clitoris and my body was beginning to grow taut. It hadn't taken Mulder long to learn what that meant.

"Are you gonna come, Scully?" he panted, having lifted his mouth from mine again. "I love how it feels when you come."

"Yes, oh God," I tried to press myself against him even more.

He kept his next few strokes short to maximize our contact and I gasped when I felt the hot surge of release, making me shudder. I clung to him, keeping myself tightly against him as I shook.

"Scully," I heard him moan. "I-, I can't -," he pushed himself even deeper and I felt him pulse inside of me.

My shudders subsided before his, so I held him until he quieted.

"Mmm," he sighed and rolled to his back, pulling me with him. "You know we've never had a day where we could just stay in bed all day and just make love," he hugged me against him.

"We will," I murmured as I settled against him.

"A lot of days," he kissed the top of my head.

"I like the sound of that," I told him drowsily.

"In fact," he brought his lips to mine again, "I am planning to make staying in bed to make love to you all day my new personal crusade."

"Mmm, you know I've always done everything in my power to assist you in your crusades," I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open, but I was surprised to feel Mulder ease himself out from under me. "Where are you going?" I whimpered.

"To blow out the candles," he chuckled. "I'll be quick."

As soon as he slipped back under the covers with me, I flung myself over him and hugged him tightly. I couldn't help sighing with contentment as my body regained what felt like its rightful position.

"This is how we were meant to be," I heard him whisper as sleep finally overtook me.

End chapter 14


	16. Chapter 15

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 15

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 15

The first thing I did the following morning was to find out if Dasan had returned and much to my relief I found him happily eating a large breakfast that his mother had made for him. Banishment seemed like an overly severe punishment to me, but he had stolen a knife. Then he'd played with that knife in a way that could've ended up killing Chachu. I sincerely hoped he'd learned his lesson. I also prayed that all of the other children had learned from his mistake as well.

When I returned to our fire, the morning followed the pattern that we'd quickly established, but as I was cleaning the breakfast dishes, instead of leaving to go to the cabin, Jack and Mulder stayed at the edge of the village talking with a group of the men. The discussion lasted about 10 minutes and then Mulder came back to talk to me.

"What was all of that about?" I asked as soon as he was close enough.

"There's been a change of plans," he began. "Don't be mad, but I already said it was okay and I'm sure you'll be fine with it."

"Would you just hurry up and tell me, please," I was anxious to know what was going on.

"After I did so well with the deer yesterday, Namid is really anxious to try the gun, and so are the other men. So I'm going to take half of the men out today and the other half tomorrow. In exchange, they are going to help Jack with the house. Jack says this way, the house will probably be up tomorrow," he told me excitedly.

"That's fantastic, Mulder," I could barely believe it.

"And not just the men," he continued. "Namid has tasked the younger boys with collecting the rocks and clay for the fireplace."

"I can't believe it," I was thrilled. I was also happy that he was going to be able to rest his hands, but I kept that to myself.

"I'll just get my rifle and the ammunition," he ducked into the wigwam. "I have no idea how long we'll be, because Jack said there's a specific place they want to go, but they assured me they'd be home for supper," he told me when he re-emerged.

"Okay, have fun," I smiled at him.

"Have a good day," he pulled me into a kiss.

"Do you need food?"

"I think we'll be having bannock and smoked meat," he shrugged.

"Well, I'll make some for you tomorrow before you go then."

"Okay, bye," he kissed me quickly again and left to join the men who were waiting for him.

Once they left, my day went surprisingly quickly. I finished the breakfast dishes and then started on the venison stew. The hardest part was retrieving some meat from the hole Mulder had dug behind the wigwam. I made it the same way I made any stew. I coated the cubed venison with flour and then browned it. Then I covered it with water, added the beans I'd been soaking, some wild rice and about a teaspoon of salt. There were no vegetables to add since I would have had to soak the corn over night as well and no spices, so I added a bit of the smoked venison to give it some flavor. After that I only had to stir it occasionally.

Wanik showed up mid-morning to show me how to finish with the acorns. We pulverized the meal between the two pieces of cloth, ending up with acorn flour, but I had nowhere to store it. Wanik retrieved the deerskin she'd promised me and showed me how to sew up a small pouch, from a piece she cut off of the skin. I still, however had no idea what I was supposed to do with the acorn flour she worked so hard to teach me to make.

When we were done it was lunch time so I convinced Wanik to eat with me. Before I gave her the stew, I tried it and decided it needed more salt. She seemed to enjoy it and thanked me. After lunch she left me to my own devices and I thought about what else I should give Mulder for supper. The stew was a meal on its own, but I thought Mulder would like some kind of bread to go with it. I decided to try and make biscuits, although I had no idea how they'd turn out over an open fire. When they were done, I gathered up our laundry. Mulder only had 3 pairs of pants, including the breeches, which I didn't wash, but it still meant I had to do laundry on a regular basis, especially with how hard he'd been working.

I'd just finished hanging the laundry to dry when I heard the sound of the men returning. I would've thought they'd be later because my guess was that it was around 4 o'clock. They obviously hadn't needed to wait for dusk.

From our wigwam at the back of the village, I couldn't see them as they approached, but judging by the whoops I heard, they'd had a good day. I hurried across the compound to see what all of the excitement was about and my jaw dropped when I saw what the men were dragging on two travois. They had a bull moose that was so large four of the men were dragging its travois and a cow moose on the second travois.

"Wow, Mulder, they are massive," I gasped.

"I know, impressive. Apram shot the bull and Chesnu got the cow. They picked up shooting quickly. We practiced this morning and then we walked to a big marshy area, it was over an hours walk, but it didn't take long once we were there," Mulder grinned. It sounded like he'd had a good time.

"Want to tell me more while we eat," I took his hand.

"Sure," he nodded.

He ate the stew hungrily, even though he said they had eaten bannock, smoked meat and the livers of both moose. My biscuits turned out well and he used one to sop up the gravy that was left on his plate. Then I surprised him with a sweeter version I'd made with sugar and currants.

I was about to start cleaning the dishes when Mulder suggested we go have a look at the progress on the cabin while it was still light out. I agreed immediately.

"Just let me cover the stew," I told him. After lifting it off the fire, I wiped the large stone off with a tea towel and used it to cover the pot copying what I'd seen the other women do. There was enough stew to feed us a second time and it was cool enough outside overnight that it wouldn't spoil.

My jaw dropped for the second time in hour when we got to the site. The floor of the cabin was done and the walls were up. All they would have to do the next day was the roof. The cabin was slightly longer than it was wide and the long side faced the stream. They'd built a porch on that side and there was a hole in the north, shorter wall which Mulder told me was for the fireplace. All the logs that were in place had been chinked with clay that had been mixed with grass. The opening for the door was at the opposite end of the house from the fireplace on the long wall that faced the stream.

"Hey," Mulder got Jack's attention. "It looks great."

"Ya, it went up quickly," Jack nodded and looked up to the sky. He called something out and everyone stopped work. I assumed he told them it was quitting time. As they filed past on their way back to the village they all said hi to me and gave Mulder a slap on the arm. Apparently the news of the hunt had already made it out to the site.

"This went up _really_ fast," Mulder told Jack when everyone had left.

"I learned how to be a good foreman in Madison," Jack laughed. "Come around and see the back."

The back of the cabin faced west and the lean-to was already built against it, but also still had to be roofed. I was surprised that it also had a floor.

"The weather blows in from the west," Jack told me, "So this will be an extra windbreak for you, keep you warmer. "And here," he continued as we walked around to the north side, "Are all of the rocks for your fireplace. We'll probably be able to finish it tomorrow, but you can't build a big fire in it right away. You'll have to let the clay cure slowly, so just have a little fire in it for about a week. Keep cooking outside for awhile, okay?" He was talking to me.

"Sure, I'm used to it," I chuckled. "What are those for?" I pointed to a stack of boards. "And where did they come from?"

"Cedar shakes for the roof," Jack explained. "That's what I did today, besides bossing everyone around," he grinned.

"You made those by hand?" I was amazed.

"Ya, cedar splits like butter when you know what you're doing and I've had a lot of practice."

"People all over Madison hired Jack to make their shakes," Mulder recalled.

"Can I see inside, Jack?" I asked anxiously when we got to the front again.

"Okay, but I don't have the steps built yet, so be careful," he warned me.

Everything looked clean and bright and I realized quickly that they had barked the logs after all, but then another thought suddenly occurred to me. Once the roof was on, it was going to be very dark in the cabin. There were no windows and not likely to be, either. There was no way we could leave the door open in the middle of winter.

"Jack," I turned to him, "When you go to Green Bay, could you bring us more candles? We definitely don't have enough."

"I was just thinking the same thing, Scully," Mulder nodded. "It'll be dark in here."

"Shouldn't be a problem," Jack nodded. "Candles aren't heavy."

That was when it hit me. I wouldn't be able to ask Jack to bring back everything I wanted. He had to bring back supplies for everyone. I'd just have to ask him to bring back what he thought he could manage.

"And a couple of reflectors on the wall should help to brighten it up even more," Jack nodded.

"So, Scully, I was thinking we could put the bed on the west wall and the table against the east wall," Mulder pointed as he spoke.

"We're going to have a table?" I asked in surprise.

"Ya, we can throw together a table and bench a lot more easily than building a cabin," he assured me.

"I can hardly wait," I breathed and squeezed his hand.

"It's getting late," Jack spoke up after a few minutes. "We should get going."

"Sorry," I laughed, I'd been looking around in a daze. "I just can't believe how fast it's all happening."

When we got back to the village, I did the dishes quickly and then Mulder and I had our baths. In bed that night we had, as Mulder had called it, energetic sex, allaying my fears that his concerns about the baby would result in gentle sex for the rest of my pregnancy.

The next day dawned clear and cool. I'd been worried that it might rain before they got the roof on, but it looked like we'd been blessed with another sunny day. After making breakfast and bannock for Mulder, I didn't have a lot to do. I wished I knew how to do needlework to keep myself busy, but even if I did, I had nothing to embroider. The pattern book Mulder had bought me in Madison did have bootie and bonnet patterns for babies, but I decided to start with a blanket.

Some of the women and all of the grandmothers had gathered around a fire near the center of the village. I grabbed my narrow gauge wooden knitting needles and a skein of cream colored yarn. As I walked toward the fire I noticed one of the adolescent boys and one of the few older men beginning to process the bull moose. They had lowered it to a mat or skin, I couldn't tell which, and had started to skin it. Six months ago I would not have been curious at all about what they were doing, but now I thought that this was something I might actually be good at, considering my skill set. I wondered if this was a normal practice or if it had been assigned to whoever was available. It was the perfect opportunity to pass on a necessary skill, so I wouldn't have been surprised to learn that this was the common practice.

When she saw me approaching, one of the grandmothers, named Chepi, moved over to make room for me on her mat. That simple action made me feel very welcome and I sat down with a smile. Wanik was sitting on the opposite side of the fire from me, still working on the beaded gloves. She smiled brightly at me when she saw me.

Even though I couldn't understand what was being said, I liked listening to everyone. I was beginning to be able to judge the general theme of a conversation. Everyone was relaxed, but the conversation seemed almost business-like. The women would nod in the direction of the moose every so often as they spoke. I had no idea how they decided to share out the spoils. Were Apram and Chesnu entitled to more of the meat or maybe they got the skins since they had actually shot the animals? Perhaps that had nothing to do with how it was divided. It could simply be decided by need.

As I'd been silently wondering about all of this, I'd begun casting-on the stitches for the blanket. I hadn't counted how many I'd cast-on; I was more concerned about how wide it was than the actual number of stitches. I spread the stitches out over the two needles to see if I had enough. I wanted it to be about 24 inches wide, so the stitches would have to fill both needles without being spaced out. Realizing I would need more, I lowered the needles to resume casting-on and discovered that all of the women were looking at me.

"I'm making a blanket for the baby," I smiled. After putting my knitting in my lap, I made a cradling motion with my arms. All the women began to talk and motioned for me to continue.

I did as they asked and in a few minutes, I was done casting on. Whenever I used stocking stitch my work always curled up at the ends, so I decided to make the blanket in a rib stitch. The needles were so small that the alternating knit and purl rows would barely be evident. The actual knitting was far faster than casting-on, so in half an hour I had a couple inches finished. Chepi reached over and felt what I'd completed and then reported to the rest of the women. It hadn't occurred to me that this would be new to them. By lunch time, my blanket was just short of a foot.

Wanik followed me back to my fire when we all dispersed to eat. When I set my knitting down, she picked it up to look at it. After inspecting it, she put it back down, made the cradling motion and said something I didn't understand.

"Baby," I said, cradling my arms and then patting my belly.

"Abinoojiiyens," she nodded.

"Wow, that's a big word for such a little thing," I laughed and repeated what she'd said.

Wanik pointed to my knitting and asked me something. I thought about what she might want to know and I realized she didn't know what it was going to be.

"A blanket," I explained and beckoned for her to follow me into the wigwam. "Blanket," I picked up one of the blankets off of the bed."

"Wabooyan," she smiled and left immediately.

When I got back outside, I saw her going from fire to fire talking to all of the women. They all must have been curious about what I was doing.

We had all returned to the fire in the afternoon when I began to hear the sound of hammering. It was the first time in the entire building process that I'd heard it and I realized they must be putting on the roof. That knowledge comforted me and I went happily back to my knitting. I'd added almost another foot to my blanket when one of the young boys let out a shout. I looked up in concern, but Wanik's smile set me at ease immediately.

"Mulder," she told me as she stood up.

My apparent joy at that news made Wanik laugh. By the time I'd stashed my knitting, stoked the fire and put the stew on to reheat to the side of the fire the men were filing into camp. There were no moose today. Instead they had three deer. I began to walk over to Mulder as soon as I saw him, but the men were hustling him off in the direction of our cabin. I couldn't leave the stew unattended so I turned around and began to make some bannock to go with the meal while I waited. I'd finished making the bannock and the stew was bubbling hot, but Mulder still hadn't returned. After waiting a few more minutes, I'd decided I would go and see what was going on, when I saw Mulder approaching. He looked pale and was chewing his cheek.

"What happened?" I jumped up; my heart had begun to race.

"Nothing, everything's fine," he assured me.

"You look worried. What were you doing?" His assurances hadn't worked.

"The men wanted to know how much my gun cost and if Jack were to buy one when he's in Green Bay, would I teach them everything they need to know, like cleaning and repair. They want me to teach the teenagers too," he explained. "They are very impressed with mine."

"That doesn't sound like a problem," I was confused.

"It isn't. I agreed right away," he told me. "But it's not that simple."

"What do you mean?"

"Even if Jack could get one of the merchants to sell him a gun, he'd be charged such an exorbitant amount for it, that he may not even have enough for it, even with everything he's bringing to trade," Mulder sighed heavily.

"Because he's Native," I felt my shoulders sag. "How can these people claim to be Christian and treat other human beings like this?" I felt a familiar rage beginning to bubble up inside of me.

"And there's more I didn't know," Mulder continued. "If Jack were white, he'd get more money for his furs and skins. The merchants give him about two-thirds of what they give white trappers."

"That's outrageous," I shook my head. "So if he was white, the gun wouldn't cost him as much and he'd get more in return for his furs, meaning he'd have more than enough money to get the gun and everything else they need."

"Ya," Mulder nodded, not meeting my eyes.

"It's not fair," I was clenching and unclenching my fists.

"Nope," he was looking at the ground.

Everything was whirling around in my head; my indignation, how unfairly Jack was treated, Mulder's expression as he approached me and how he wasn't looking at me. When I finally understood what was going on, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I sank to the ground. Mulder reached out for me as I dropped slowly. He fell to his knees and took my hand.

"You can't be serious," my voice was barely above a whisper. "He's going to be gone for 2 weeks and you want to go with him, don't you?"

"Want to?" he repeated. "No, I don't want to," he shook his head.

"But you have to," my breath caught in my throat as tears began to roll down my cheeks.

"I don't have to," he shook his head. "I can say no," he began to wipe my tears away with his thumb.

"No, you can't," I sniffed. "How could we possibly say no? That would be taking food out of their mouths after they've done so much for us. Neither choice makes me happy, Mulder, but you going with Jack is the right choice. We both know it is."

"You're sure?" he was now looking into my eyes.

"I couldn't live with myself if I said no," I sighed.

"When Jack asked me, I told him that you had to agree and if I did manage to convince you-,"

"Convince me?" I laughed ruefully. "You let me get there all on my own," I raised an eyebrow at him. "You knew I'd agree, didn't you?"

"I knew you would think it was the right thing to do, but two weeks is a long time in normal circumstances and this ain't normal circumstances, Scully. It's a lot to ask of you. I want you to be sure," he sat down and pulled me onto his lap.

"Will I be lonely?" I sighed as I snuggled against him. "Yes. Will I miss you every second you're gone? Of course I will. Will I manage? It's what I do," I refrained from saying I'd be fine.

"I wish there was another way," he hugged me tightly.

"There is one benefit," I realized as my mind got past my concerns about being without Mulder.

"What's that?"

"I was worried that we hadn't brought enough supplies to last the winter and I was going to ask Jack to bring a few things back with him, but when I asked him about the candles I realized there was only so much he could carry," I explained.

"If I can shoot a couple of deer, I'll probably be able to bring back whatever your heart desires," he agreed. "But we're getting ahead of ourselves. I told Jack that if you agreed, I had conditions."

"What conditions?" I leaned back to look at him in surprise.

"The cabin has to be completely done, including the furniture, a woodpile, the well and the outhouse. And we have to be completely moved in," he began his list. "And while we're gone, someone has to make sure you have enough meat and make sure you're okay."

"Mulder, I sit around with the women all day. I'm not going to be locked up in the cabin the entire time," I frowned at him.

"I told Jack that someone had to be responsible for your safety," Mulder's tone was amusingly serious.

"Mulder, I'm trained to look after my own safety," I reminded him.

"Humor me, okay? It's the only way I'll agree to go, Scully," his tone was still serious.

"Okay, I'll have a babysitter," I rolled my eyes.

"I had one other condition," he told me as I leaned into his chest again.

"What's that?" I murmured.

"I said you and I had to have an entire day to ourselves in the cabin before we leave."

"Mulder!" I straightened up again to look at his face. "Did you really say that?"

"I really said that. Why, what's wrong with that?" he sounded like he honestly didn't see why I had a problem with what he'd said.

"What did Jack say?" I wasn't sure I'd be able to look him in the eye again.

"He said he understood that we would want to have time together before I leave for two weeks," he was looking at me like I'd grown gills.

"Oh," I heaved sigh. "I guess that's okay."

"What did-," his brow was furrowed and then I saw the light go on in his eyes. "Dana Katherine Scully! What did you think? Did you think I said we wanted a day to fuck like bunnies?"

"Well, I thought that was our plan," I confessed, with a smile.

"How long have you had a one track mind?" he pressed his lips against mine for a quick kiss.

"Since August 7th," I replied, unblinking.

"August 7th?" I could see he was trying to figure out why.

"That was the first night you asked to kiss me," I reminded him.

"I still don't understand why you didn't realize how I felt about you right then," he scanned my face.

"It always seemed like a joke, Mulder. That night you joked about being left out," I explained.

"I guess that was a defence mechanism," he gave me a squeeze. "Omiga gave me the courage to kiss you the way I did after he gave you that concoction."

"I'll always love him for that," I chuckled.

"Me too," Mulder kissed me softly. "They're waiting for my answer, Scully," he straightened up to remind me.

"I thought we'd already decided," I brushed at his hair.

"I wanted to make sure you hadn't changed your mind," he was looking directly into my eyes.

"I haven't," I assured him.

"Okay," he nodded as he helped me get to my feet. "I'll go let them know and then after we eat we can take another look at the cabin."

"Okay," I smiled at him, hoping he couldn't see how heavy my heart was. Even though I knew we'd made the right decision, I was concerned about more than not being with him for two weeks. I was worried that he'd injure himself traipsing through the woods and I wouldn't be there to take care of him. I didn't want him to know my fears, so I resolved to just let him think I was only concerned about our being apart.

When he returned, we ate our supper quickly and then went to the building site. I couldn't believe my eyes. The cabin was done or at least it looked that way to me.

"Is it finished?" I turned to Mulder in surprise.

"Not a hundred percent," he shook his head.

"Can we go in?" I tugged at his hand.

"I'd like to wait until it's done. We should be able to finish it up tomorrow morning, in the afternoon we can move everything in and we can make our supper here tomorrow night," he pulled me back gently. "Is that okay?"

"Is there something you don't want me see?" I grinned at him.

"It's the whole package, Scully. I want everything to be perfect for you," he pulled me into a hug. "As perfect as it can be in the back woods of Wisconsin in 1838."

"I love you," I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. If I hadn't thought it would have ruined this for him, I would've told him that I didn't need the cabin for everything to be as perfect as it could be here. I would've happily lived in a wigwam with him and our child. They were what made everything perfect for me. I'd fallen in love with Mulder before I'd seen this provider side of him and it only made me love him more. I'd intended to just give him a quick peck, but he held me tightly against him with a hand on the small of my back. His other hand went to my face as he deepened the kiss.

My stomach fluttered as his tongue delved into my mouth. I don't think it would ever cease to amaze me that his passion never seemed to wane. In fact, it seemed to grow with every passing day. I heard myself hum with pleasure as his hand moved to my ass. When I felt his cock beginning to harden, I remembered where we were.

"Mulder," I said into his mouth as I tried to pull away.

"Mmm," he pulled me back and continued to kiss me lustily.

"Mulder," I turned my face aside. "Not here."

"Unh," he groaned and leaned his head against mine. "You make me forget where I am," he was still breathing heavily.

"My mind was elsewhere too," I smiled at him.

"Let me talk to Jack for a couple minutes and then we can pick up where we left off, okay?" he grinned slyly at me.

"Okay, I'll clean up the supper dishes and whoever finishes first can warm up the bed," I raised a suggestive brow at him.

I thought Mulder would beat me back to the wigwam, but I'd been under the covers for a few minutes before he appeared.

"Where were we?" He asked as he began to undress.

I could tell even in the candle light that his eyes had grown dark.

"You were kissing me very inappropriately in front of everyone," I reminded him

"You started it," he countered as he kicked his pants toward the side of the wigwam. "If you put temptation in front of me, Scully, I won't fight it."

"I was just giving you a little kiss," I argued as I threw back the covers for him.

Instead of the comeback I was expecting, I got a long slow breath from him. He stood at the foot of the bed and let his eyes roam over me. My hips and legs weren't completely exposed so he bent over and rectified that situation. Despite the wigwam being cool, I began to grow quite warm under his gaze.

"What are you doing, Mulder?" I asked after a couple of minutes. "Aren't you going to join me?" I patted the bed beside me.

"I don't have a picture of you to take with me, so I'm taking a mental one," his eyes were burning into mine.

Mulder had a way of turning me on with a only few simple words and the way he looked at me. No other man had ever been able to do that to me before. I hadn't seen myself in a mirror since we left Madison and by 20th century standards, my grooming was almost non-existent. I bathed every other day and brushed my hair and washed my face morning and night. Mulder had found toothbrushes for us in Madison. They were enormous with horrendous looking brown bristles, but we made do. Toothpaste was unheard of. Mulder had found something called tooth powder, but he'd tasted it and told me it was repulsive, so we took a pass. My eyebrows had completely grown in, but thankfully they hadn't been bad to start with. They were simply shapeless now. My armpits and legs were hairy. Deodorant was non-existent. Over the years we'd worked together, I'd spent more and more time trying to make myself attractive for him and yet, here he was, looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on. I found the irony quite amusing.

"Do you just want the one?" I got to my hands and knees and began to crawl slowly toward him, my eyes never leaving his.

He didn't answer me, but his pupils dilated perceptibly. It was the only answer I needed. I dropped my eyes to see if my actions had resulted in any other physiological effects and was pleased to see they had. I could see that his chest was rising and falling faster and his cock was thick and hard. When I was close enough, I put my hands on his thighs and began to straighten up. After sliding my hands around to his ass, I pulled him a step closer.

"Will this make a good picture?" I asked as my hand closed around his shaft. I looked up at him as I took the head of his cock into my mouth.

"God, yes," he groaned.

I watched as he fought to keep his eyes open. Both of his hands went to my hair. As my tongue swirled over his cock, he moved my head gently with his hands to let me know exactly what he wanted. I moved both hands back to his hips and let him take control.

"Jesus, Scully," he groaned when he realized what I was doing.

"Mmm," I hummed against him, still looking at him.

He moved my head slowly, never pushing me down very far. If I needed to breathe, I pushed back against him slightly and he would pull me off. This was something I'd never done before. Despite my somewhat submissive tendencies in the bedroom, I'd never let a man control me in this way and I loved it, even though it was really only mock control. He wasn't doing anything I wouldn't have done on my own; less actually. I let him know that by taking him deeper than he'd been pushing me. That led to a deliciously unrefined grunt that seemed to originate from somewhere deep within him.

My clit was throbbing mercilessly and I could feel that the inside of my thighs had grown slick. If I'd pressed my legs together, I probably would've come.

"Use your hand," he instructed me hoarsely.

I brought my hand back to his cock immediately.

"Nnn," he shook his head. "On my balls."

"Mmm," I hummed against him again as I complied. His testicles were already pulled up against his body. I knew that meant he was close. He groaned loudly when I began to massage them gently. His eyes had closed and his head lolled slightly, but he was still moving my head. I'd managed to relax his balls slightly, but the next time I ran my tongue back and forth over the underside of his head, they practically jumped out of my hand.

"Yes," he panted as I caressed him and continued to tease him with my tongue. I could feel that the muscles in his thigh had grown taut and he began to quake. It only took another of my hums against him before I felt him pulse into my mouth. His hands released my head as he shook. I continued to use my lips and tongue gently until his body calmed. I was forced to release him when he dropped to his knees.

"Scully, that was-," he pulled me into a kiss.

"Picture perfect," I boasted when we paused for air.

"You have no idea," he sighed and collapsed to the bed, pulling me with him. "It'll definitely make the album."

"The album?" I asked as he kissed my neck.

"It's more like a video library. They all have motion and sound," he moved toward my breast.

"In your head?" I laughed.

"Ya," he lifted his head to grin at me.

"Like what?" I was curious.

"You already know some of them. You in the stream and you in the corset," he reminded me. "There's also you on your hands and knees looking over your shoulder at me on the bed in Madison."

"I'm sensing a trend," I chuckled.

"There's also the first time I saw you in your underwear," he flicked my nipple playfully with his tongue.

"I know you saw me naked before we were intimate, Mulder," I was thinking aloud, "But I don't remember the first time you saw me in my underwear."

"You don't?" he looked surprised. "It's definitely burned into my brain. Our first case, Scully, remember? You dropped your bathrobe for me. A lesser man would've ravaged you then and there."

"I recall being terrified that I had the marks," I thought back.

"Hence the reason you went unravaged," he smirked me.

"I had no idea you had feelings for me back then," I was shocked.

"Well, feelings of lasciviousness," he confessed. "Feelings of love came later."

"When?" I wanted to know.

"I'm not sure. It snuck up on me. Do you know when?" He bent his head to my breast again.

"I was jealous every time you paid attention to another woman, even if I didn't want to admit it to myself." It was my turn to confess. "The first time I felt that was probably when Phoebe showed up."

"Since then?" he lifted his head in surprise.

"It was probably more of a crush at that point," I could feel my cheeks growing hot.

"I had no idea," he shook his head in awe. "I wonder what would've happened if we'd acted on our feelings back then. I was a different person."

"We both were," I nodded as I watched him kiss his way down my belly. "You were worth the wait."

"Jesus, Scully," he scrambled back up the bed to crush my mouth with a kiss. As his tongue plunged into my mouth, his hand slid down my belly. When he eased his hand between my thighs he must have felt how wet I was, because he groaned and thrust his tongue even further into my mouth. I didn't need to be asked to open my legs. I parted them willingly to give him access. Even the first graze of his fingers felt blissful and my moan surely let him know that. When his thumb found my clit, my hips left the bed. I wanted to warn him that I was close, that I was already on the verge, that having him in my mouth already had me most of the way there. My head, however, was being held firmly against the bed by the force of his kisses. All it took was one of his fingers seeking entrance and I was gone. Even through the haze of my orgasm I could tell Mulder was surprised that I had peaked so soon. He had pulled back slightly when the first wave hit me, but his hand stayed firmly in place.

"What was that?" he asked softly when I opened my eyes.

"An orgasm, if I'm not mistaken," I chuckled.

"I like to think that I'm quite talented, Scully, but I've never made you come that fast before," he caressed my thigh.

"You are quite talented," I agreed with a smile. "But I was so close that it didn't take much."

"Just from-?" he looked at me in surprise.

"Don't you get aroused when you go down on me?" I asked evenly.

"Oh, ya," he began to kiss my neck. "I love the way you taste and the sounds you make and the way you can't keep still." He hadn't stopped his downward progress.

"Mulder?" I asked warily. "What are you doing?"

"I had been planning to taste you," he paused to look up at me. "My plans haven't changed," A smiled twitched at the corner of his mouth.

"Mulder, no," I tried to squirm away from him.

"Oh, no you don't," he held me firmly.

"I'll be too sensitive," I practically whimpered.

"I'll be gentle," His voice was anything but. "Mostly."

Grabbing me behind the knees, he pushed my legs back so that my knees were inches from the bed, almost level with my breasts. I was completely at his mercy. That sensation made shudder even before his lips touched me. First he kissed his way down my thigh to the crook of my leg and then gave the opposite leg the same treatment. When he began to kiss my outer lips, I groaned.

"Too sensitive?" he lifted his head to ask.

"No, it feels amazing," I breathed.

"Good," he sounded pleased with himself. "How about this?" he pulled his right hand back and then I felt him slide two fingers into me.

I gasped and arched my head backward.

"Sounds like that's okay too," his voice was gravelly.

Before I could let him know it was more than okay, he began to move his fingers.

"Oh, god," I took a sharp breath and tilted my hips up, achieving what I wanted immediately; more contact with my g-spot. "Yes," I panted. "So good." I wanted to lift my hips to match his rhythm but his left hand was keeping me in place. It only took a few more strokes until I didn't care. I could feel the sweet build-up of pressure and just as it felt like I might implode, I felt the bliss of release as heat radiated through me. Mulder didn't stop after my first orgasm, though, and my second was building before I could catch the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. His fingers were moving so fast that my orgasms seemed to be right on top of each other. I was panting and gasping and writhing with my head arched back and my hands clenching the blankets. Soon my entire body began to tremble and I went limp. Mulder quickly realized that his fingers were no longer having any effect, so he eased them out of me.

As he positioned himself between my legs, I felt his body heat against me. He began to kiss my neck softly and I could feel his erection pressing against me. His powers of recuperation were impressive. My eyes were still closed and my breathing was labored, but feeling how hard he was made me want him inside of me. I moved hands to his hips and moved him slightly, adjusting myself at the same time. He groaned loudly into my ear when he entered me.

"So fucking hot," he breathed.

"Oh," I took a shaky breath. I'd assumed that my body was done for the evening, but I responded as soon as he began to move. "You feel so big," I groaned.

"Mmm, look at me, Scully," his voice was soft.

I opened my eyes to find him gazing down at me, as he moved slowly in and out of me.

"Need to see your eyes." His eyes seemed greener than I'd ever seen them before. "Love your eyes."

Everything I was feeling seemed more intense as soon as our eyes locked. For years, Mulder and I'd had entire conversations just with our eyes. I could always tell exactly what he kind of mood he was in or what he was thinking about a case and even what bad decision he was about to make, as long as he met my eyes. If he couldn't or wouldn't look me in the eye, I knew it was going to be bad.

Initially his pace was slow. Whenever my eyelids fluttered or my eyes rolled back, he groaned in response and began to move a bit more quickly.

"Feels amazing," I told him as I reached up to caress his cheek.

He turned and placed a kiss on my palm, but our eyes never lost contact.

"Love you," he was beginning to breathe harder.

"I love you, Mulder," I ran my finger along his bottom lip. The lip I really wanted to kiss; to be kissing me.

"I know, Scully. I can see it in your eyes."

"God, Mulder, kiss me," I pulled his head down.

He didn't resist me. I kissed him hungrily when our lips met and his pace became more frantic. I held him tightly when he shuddered in release. When he rolled to his side, he brought me with him. He continued to kiss me softly, and I fell asleep hearing him profess his love for me over and over.

Despite the passion we'd shared, I woke the next morning with a heavy heart. I wanted to tell him that I'd changed my mind, that I didn't want him to leave, but I knew that would've been beyond selfish, so I said nothing.

Mulder insisted that I stay away from the building site because he wanted me to wait until it was finished. I was anxious to see it, but I knew it would make him happy, if I waited, so after I fed him his breakfast, I sent him on his way with a kiss. I wouldn't have had much time to be hanging around anyway. I had dishes to wash, clothes to launder, food to prepare and in between, pack up everything I could. Even though we'd been back less than a week, the travois was empty and had to be repacked. There were things Mulder had brought that remained wrapped up. I was curious to know what they were, but I'd never gotten around to unwraping them and it wouldn't have made any sense to look at this point.

When Mulder had finished his lunch, he told me people would start showing up to get our things shortly. In a couple of hours, the wigwam was empty. Both travois were gone and the still damp clothes were taken down and the clothesline was gone. Mulder and Jack took the venison from behind the wigwam and refilled the hole. One of the adolescent boys grabbed my food preparation rock and Aiyana even took the pot of stew I was cooking. I double checked the wigwam, inside and out, but all that was left to go to the cabin was me.

The only people in the village were the grandmothers who were watching the very young children and the sole baby in the camp. I went over to join the ladies at the central fire. When I reached for the infant, Magena handed him over to me with a smile. The women continued to talk quietly while I watched him sleep. This was the boy whose life had hung in the balance three months ago. It filled me with a complete sense of peace to watch his serene face. If he'd been given a name yet, I didn't know what it was. I'd learned the children's names by watching to see who responded when a name was called and no one needed to call Namid's grandson.

I couldn't help wondering if I'd get anything done when I was a new mother because I would've been content to sit for hours and watch him sleep. As it turned out, I only got an hour with him before Mulder came back to get me. When the grandmothers saw him, they all got to their feet.

"Is everyone coming?" I asked Mulder quietly.

"Kinda like a housewarming, I guess," he shrugged with a smile.

Magena took the baby from me so I could stand up, but she handed him back to me right away. I wanted to run to the cabin, but I couldn't with the baby in my arms. Nor did I want to the leave the grandmothers in my dust, so we ended up strolling to our new home as if in a royal progress.

End chapter 15


	17. Chapter 16

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 16

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 16

Before we reached the site I could hear everyone talking. I could smell food and I knew right away it wasn't my stew.

"They've been cooking?" I looked at Mulder in surprise.

"Since this morning," he grinned at me.

I was about to ask if there was some sort of tradition surrounding moving into a new home, but then the trees gave way to a clearing making the south wall of the cabin visible. I stood stock still and stared. Against the wall was stacked the largest pile of wood I'd ever seen.

"Do we really need all of that wood?" I turned to Mulder again.

"I hope not," he scanned the pile, too. "I hope we've cut enough that some of this can dry. It will be less smoky that way. There's more on the porch and inside too," he informed me.

"Inside?" I furrowed my brow.

"You'll see," he grinned. "C'mon," he nodded toward the front of the house. Before I followed him, I couldn't help noticing that my clothesline, complete with the clothes I'd been drying, now ran from the southwest corner of the house to a tree about 30 feet away.

The front yard of the house and the porch were filled with everyone from the village. As soon as they saw us, a whoop went up. I couldn't believe how ridiculously happy I was about moving into this cabin with Mulder. I was so excited I thought I might burst. The grandmothers who'd been trailing behind us, now filed past and went to the fire, leaving me with the baby.

Namid was standing on the porch and began to speak. I heard our names, but other than that, I had no idea what he was saying. Mulder signalled for Jack to come and translate. As he walked toward us, I took in the front of the cabin. I'd already seen that the porch ran the length of the house when I was here two days prior, but I was surprised to see that they'd extended the roof over it. There was a bench at one end of it and another pile of wood was stacked between the bench and the front door.

"What's he saying?" Mulder whispered when Jack was beside him.

"That it's a good day because you are back with us and moving into your own place. He thought you'd be back because he knew you belonged here. This ceremony is to bless your house," Jack whispered loudly. "Now Omiga is going to make sure there are no evil spirits in the cabin."

"I thought the spirits of the ancestors lived in the trees," I looked at Jack in confusion.

"Evil spirits hide everywhere," he clarified.

Omiga went to the fire and lit something.

"What is that?" I asked Jack.

"Sage," Jack told me. "To cleanse and the first fire in your home must be built with cedar to purify," he continued to explain. "It's all set; you just have to light it."

Omiga was inside for a good ten minutes. While he was gone I told Mulder and Jack how great everything looked. When the healer finally emerged, the crowd let out another whoop.

"Okay, now you both go in and light the fire," Jack told us.

"Are you going to give the baby back to Soyala before we go in?" Mulder asked me with a grin.

"No, take the baby," Jack interjected. "It's good luck to bring new life into your home."

"Okay," Mulder pursed his lips. "Can you just take him for a second, while I do something?" he asked Jack.

"What are you going to do?" I wondered what he had in mind.

"Please, Scully," he looked at me pleadingly.

"Whatever," I sighed and handed the baby to Jack. A murmur rose up from everyone, but before anyone grew too concerned, Mulder bent and picked me up making me yelp in surprise.

"What are you doing, Mulder?" I laughed.

"A little ritual of my own," he grinned. "Okay," he nodded to Jack.

After I laid the baby on my chest, Mulder began to walk toward the steps. Jack announced something to the crowd as he mounted the stairs. Another murmur rose up, but this one was more excited. Namid said something else, making everyone murmur even louder.

"Namid says Mulder is showing us that he and Day-na and their baby are one, so they will go into the house as one," Jack translated for us.

"Oh, that is so nice," I felt tears beginning to well up.

"I just wanted to carry you across the threshold," Mulder admitted. "Namid made it sound much better." He had to turn sideways to go in the door. When he set me down the first thing I saw was the massive fireplace. It was centered on the north wall and almost ran the width of the cabin, save a few feet on either side.

"I had no idea it would be so big," I said in awe.

"I've dreamt that you would say that to me some day, Scully," Mulder chuckled.

"You're incorrigible," I shook my head.

"I thought you found that endearing," he smirked.

"I'm not sure if that's the exact word I'd use," I looked at him sideways.

"Let's light the fire," he nodded. "Everyone's waiting. We can discuss how charming I am later."

The hearth wasn't raised off of the floor; instead the rocks had been inlaid to form a stone floor for about a foot and half around the firebox. Mulder reached for a box of matches that lay on the split log that served as a mantle. The cedar boughs were laid a top a wrought iron grate that I didn't even know we'd brought. It must have been what I hadn't unwrapped. There was also a wrought iron bar built into the side of the firebox. I bent over to see if it moved but Mulder stopped me.

"Don't touch it, Scully," he warned. "The clay will take time to cure."

"Sorry," I pulled my hand back. "Does it move?"

"Ya," he nodded as he squatted down with the matches. "So you can just slide the pot or the kettle onto it and then push it back in."

The cedar crackled as it caught fire.

"Do you see that recess," he pointed to a hole in the east wall of the firebox. "I'm hoping maybe you can make bread in there, but I have no idea if it'll be hot enough," he shrugged. "There's also a trivet you can use to put the skillet on," he smiled as he stood up.

"Where's that?" I saw the poker, the little shovel and broom leaning against the hearth. I saw hooks above them where I presumed they were supposed to hang, but couldn't until the clay had set. I didn't see a trivet.

"In the lean-to," he explained. "I'll show you later."

"If the clay isn't set, why is it okay to walk on it?" I looked down at the stone and clay floor we were standing on.

"It was laid early and we tamped it down thoroughly. You can't really do that as much with the upright parts," he explained.

As he spoke the baby began to grow fussy.

"I think he's hungry," I smiled. "I'll find Soyala."

When I got to the door, Wanik was standing there holding two bowls of stew. Behind her stood Migisi with a plate of bannock and behind her was Soyala with a heaping bowl of wild rice. I traded Soyala for the baby and she left to go outside with him, but the line continued from there. We were given cups of tea, new moccasins, and 2 more deer skins. Everyone gave us something, even if it was a single walnut or chestnut. I had to ask Mulder to grab one of my new baskets to put them in.

"What is going on, Jack?" I asked when he handed me a chestnut.

"It's traditional," he smiled. "You never go empty-handed the first time you go into a new home. This way you will never be hungry or cold."

"A housewarming," I smiled.

I'd assumed everyone was going to stay, but after they insisted that we eat the stew right away, everyone bid us good-bye.

We left the door open because it was still fairly warm, in a fall kind of way and I didn't want to waste candles. I had to make the ones I had last until Jack and Mulder got back. Thinking about Mulder leaving made my heart ache immediately, but I didn't want to ruin the little bit of time we had left, so I pushed it aside quickly.

"Let me give you the nickel tour," Mulder reached for my hand.

"Please," I squeezed his hand and smiled up at him.

I could see that our bed was up against the west wall, but Mulder lifted up the blankets and showed me 3 baskets under the bed that held our clothes. The table was pushed up against the east wall. There was a bench and a chair pulled up to it. The seat of the chair was a slice of log, while the seat of the bench was a split log.

"If we have company, we can bring the bench in from outside," he explained. "And I'll make another chair when-," he paused.

"It's okay, Mulder," I stood up on my tiptoes to kiss him. "I don't want to dwell on it, but we don't have to pretend it's not happening."

"I saw your face fall earlier and I knew you were thinking about it," he countered.

Why did I bother trying to hide my feelings from him? He'd been able to read me for a very long time.

"I was," I admitted, "But stopping mid-sentence like that doesn't help, Mulder. We've already made the decision. I may not want to discuss it every second, but you don't have to censor yourself, okay?"

"Okay," he sighed and returned my kiss.

"So you're going to make another chair as a winter project?" I finished his sentence for him.

"Ya, we'll need something to do besides making love all day," he grinned at me.

"Well, I hope you don't have any timelines for this chair," I put my arms around his neck. "Because when you get back, I'll be expecting you to make up for lost time."

"I know that thought will keep me going, Scully," he lowered his mouth to mine. In an instant I was lost in his kiss. His arms wrapped around me and held me against him tightly. I loved the way it felt to be pressed against him.

"Mmm, let's finish the tour, Mulder," I broke our kiss reluctantly. "Then we can have a bath, since we missed last night and then we'll have the rest of afternoon and evening to do whatever we want," I smiled slyly at him.

"What exactly do you have in mind?" he looked at me with mock wariness.

"In my mind?" I grinned. "I see a very handsome, very naked man. He has some very impressive attributes."

"What attributes?" Mulder's breathing had grown ragged.

"He's lean and muscular. He's got great abs, but his rear end is far more spectacular. It looks like it was sculpted by Rodin," I slid my hands down to caress his ass. His cock was now fully erect and pressing against my belly. "He has large, strong hands, and yet the softest touch I've ever felt. He's got an amazing mouth. As soon as his lips touch mine, my heart starts to race. One of his smiles can make me forget my name. He has beautifully expressive eyes that can tell me what he's thinking with a single look. But the most impressive thing about this man is right between his-," I paused for effect. "Ears."

Despite being completely aroused, my words made Mulder smile.

"And it's not just because he's smart," I continued. "He thinks his penis is his most impressive sexual organ, but he's wrong, although it is a close second," I confessed with a wink. "His brain is by far his most impressive sexual organ. He knows just what to say with that mouth to make my heart flutter. He knows just where to put those lips to make my knees weak. He knows exactly how to touch me with those hands to make me sigh. He knows precisely how to look at me to make me want to tear his clothes off. And I absolutely adore how he uses his two most impressive sexual organs together to bring me to the most incredible, mind-altering orgasms I've ever experienced."

"Jesus, Scully," he lowered his mouth to mine to kiss me hungrily. "Love you so much," he panted when we paused to gasp for air. When he began to lower his head to mine again, I put my finger on his mouth.

"Tour and bath, then we'll pick up where we left off," I reminded him.

"Fuck," he groaned.

"Yes, but not right away," I grinned at him.

"Fine," he released me from his arms and grabbed my hand and practically dragged me to the back door. "Lean-to," he pulled open the door. I barely had time to see the shelves stocked with our supplies at one end and the tools stored at the other before he was pulling me away again.

"Wood box," he pointed to the wood between the fireplace and the east wall. "And root cellar," he walked to the back of the house and opened a trap door in the floor, using a hole that had been cut into the wood.

"Root cellar?" I was surprised.

"It's empty for now, but I hope we'll have something to go in there soon enough," he nodded and let the door fall closed with a thud. "Okay, we can kill two birds with one stone here. I'll show you the well and we can get the water for our baths at the same time." He went back and grabbed a large pot and the kettle.

The well was a few feet from the northeast corner of the porch. A second set of stairs that I hadn't noticed before led to it. The well was just a hole in the ground covered by a large wooden lid. They'd secured the lid to the ground with wooden pegs. I couldn't fathom how long they must have been or how long it would've taken to drive them in. The cover formed a platform that was about five feet square. In the center of it was another trap door. A bucket was tied to the handle by a large coil of rope. Mulder opened the door and dropped the bucket in. It hit the water with a splash that was a lot closer than I was expecting.

"How deep is it?" I asked.

"About 10 feet," he told me. "Because we're so close to the river the water table isn't very deep. And that's also why the outhouse is about a hundred feet into the woods and north of the well." He pointed to the small structure barely visible in the woods.

"I should use that before I have my bath," I thought aloud as Mulder hauled up the bucket.

"I'll put the water on to heat," he nodded.

When I joined Mulder at the fire, he'd removed the large pot of stew from the fire and put the pot and kettle on to heat. The large pot wasn't mine and Mulder hadn't seen who'd brought it.

"Where's the stew I made this morning?" I wondered aloud.

"All of our pots were in the lean-to, so I'm guessing your stew was added to this one," he shrugged.

"Makes sense," I nodded as I covered the stew with my rock.

"Should I get lids when I'm in Green Bay?" Mulder asked.

"This works," I shrugged. "And I think raccoons might be able to get a regular lid off. I've seen their paw prints on the pot in the morning."

"Some things never change," he chuckled. "I'll get the tub set up and put some water in it."

I was surprised to see him go to the river when he came back with the pot my stew had been in to get the water.

"Why didn't you use the well?" I asked.

"The river is easier right now, but when the river freezes, we can chop a hole in the ice or use the well," he explained.

"Won't the well freeze?"

"Only if it gets unbelievably cold," he told me as he walked past.

I didn't mention that I thought Wisconsin did get unbelievably cold because I knew that if a hole needed to be chopped in the ice, Mulder would do it. I also didn't want to think about how cold the upcoming winter might be. There were other things I'd rather be thinking about.

I knew the water would still take some time to heat up, so I used that time to take the laundry in off the line. By the time I returned from stashing our clothes in the baskets under the bed the water was close to boiling.

"What's that other small building behind the lean-to?" I asked.

"For the meat, to keep it cold and hopefully frozen soon," he explained as he picked the pot up off of the fire.

I grabbed the kettle and followed him back into the cabin. Once the candles were lit, I shut the door. One of the deerskins we'd been given still had fur on it and I was surprised to discover that Mulder had put it on the floor beside our bed. I never would've thought of using it as a rug. As I undressed, he built a small fire in the fireplace. The few boughs of cedar had long since burned away.

I began by washing my hair, leaning over the tub, using a small pot to rinse it. When I'd finished, I discovered that Mulder had settled onto the chair to watch me. The look on his face was definitely predatory. He shifted in his chair, presumably to make room for the return of his erection. I stepped into the tub and began to wash myself quickly. I wanted to avail myself of his impressive attributes as quickly as possible.

When I stood up to get out of the tub, Mulder stood up.

"Hang on a sec," he went to the table and retrieved my new moccasins. "Make sure you always wear these," he set them down by the tub. "We used sand to smooth the floor but you could still end up with one hell of a sliver."

"Oww," I grimaced at the thought as he handed me a towel.

He stood and watched as I dried myself off. His gaze was all the foreplay I really needed.

"Do you want me to help you, like last time?" I asked as I reached for the dress that I'd left on the bench.

"Ya," the timbre of his voice betrayed his feelings. "And never mind the dress."

"Are we spending more naked time together?" I grinned as I reached for the soap.

"As much as humanly possible," he breathed. "But if you want me clean you'd better hurry up, Scully, because I'm using every ounce of my willpower not to pick you up and take you to the bed right now and I can feel it slipping away as we speak."

"So I can't take my time?" I pouted as I began to soap him up.

"Not if you want to finish," his voice had become raspy.

"But it won't be sexy," I complained.

"Scully, please," he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. His penis was so engorged that even in this light I could tell it was purple. It was all I could do not to lean closer and lick off the growing bead of lubricant that was glistening on its head. I washed the rest of him quickly. I knew that once I touched his erection the bath would be over. When I'd rinsed the all of the soap off of him, I gave into my desires and took the head of his cock into my mouth.

"Unh," he let out a long slow breath.

While he was still overcome, I released him and finished his bath. There was no way I could wash him without it feeling sexual and I'd barely finished rinsing him off when he stepped out of the tub and picked me up. I'd always thought Mulder was fairly fit, but his work here must have made him even stronger, because he lifted me like I weighed next to nothing. In two strides we were at the bed. After practically throwing me onto the bed, he was on top off me and inside of me so fast I had to gasp. Since our relationship changed, Mulder and I'd had our share of energetic sex, but nothing remotely close to the way he was fucking me now. Fucking was the only apt term for what we were doing. I must have convinced him that he could be as vigorous as he wanted despite my pregnancy, because every time he thrust into me, our bodies met with a thud. I pulled my knees back further and groaned when we collided again.

"God, yes," I cried as his next stroke shook me.

"Scully," he moaned into my ear.

"Yes, yes, yes," I was panting as my hands tugged at his ass. I wanted to be sure he knew how much I needed, craved, and loved what we were doing, beyond any shadow of a doubt.

"Fuck," he growled and crushed my mouth with a kiss. I was momentarily surprised when his pace slowed and his thrusts changed. Instead of pounding into me, he was grinding against me with each stroke. It still felt amazing, but I wanted his raw passion back.

"Want you to keep going the way you were," I dug my fingers into his ass.

"Be patient," he breathed and gave me an added jolt with his hips as he continued to grind against me. "There's something I want first," he told me through gritted teeth.

"What?" I was still breathing hard.

"Want to feel you come, want to see you shudder, want to hear you moan my name," he had my hips tilted up to maximize the contact between our bodies.

"Oh god, Mulder," I grabbed his head and pulled him down for another kiss.

We kissed hungrily as he continued toward his goal. When my body started to tense and I was no longer an active participant in our kiss, but merely had my mouth open against his, I felt his lips leave mine.

"Yes," he groaned. "Come for me, Scully. I love the way you come," he rotated against me.

My entire body had grown taut and it felt like I might fly apart at any second.

"And I love that I can make you feel like this," his voice was incredibly raspy.

I dragged my eyes open to find Mulder's eyes burning into me. The intensity of his love for me was staggering. Once he'd realized that I shared his feelings, he hadn't been shy about sharing the depths and strength of his feelings for me but even after three months, seeing them still overwhelmed me.

"I love you, Mulder" I managed to pant before my orgasm exploded through me.

As I quaked I felt Mulder's lips against my neck. Just the sensation of his mouth on the tender spot below my ear was enough to prolong my quaking. I revelled in the feeling of my internal muscles tugging at him, as if they wanted to pull him deeper inside of me. Feeling how hard he was sent another surge through me.

As soon as I was finally able to drag my eyes open, Mulder covered my mouth with his. He thrust his tongue into my mouth as he began to move again. For a moment I was worried that he wouldn't go back to fucking me the way he had been, but my fears were quickly allayed. If anything, our pace was even more vigorous. I urged him on with my hands, easily matching his rhythm. When his breathing became too labored, his mouth left mine and I was able to talk to him. I wanted to tell him how fantastic he felt; how much I loved having him inside me. I wanted to tell him about the sense of joy and completion our lovemaking filled me with, but I couldn't be that eloquent as he slammed into me.

"So good," was all I could manage. "Love you," I groaned. "Love this."

When his body began to tense, I thought I might not climax again. Normally Mulder brought me with him when he took his final thrusts, but I didn't think I was close enough. As his body began to shake, he groaned my name. At that instant I knew why he'd wanted to hear me say his name as I peaked. It was the single most erotic sound I'd ever heard. It was also enough to send me careening over the edge again.

As always, my orgasms had a soporific effect on me, and the last thing I remember as I fell asleep in Mulder's arms was his lips pressed against my hair as he told me how thoroughly he loved me.

When I woke in the middle of the night, I found myself under the covers. The candles had been extinguished and a small fire was burning. It cast enough light to allow me to see. It bothered me that I had absolutely no idea what time it was, but there was nothing to be done about that. My body had quickly adapted to the rising and setting of the sun, although I wondered if I would still wake with the rising of the sun inside the cabin. I slid out of bed to find my moccasins on the rug. My dress was still on the chair where I'd put it, but the wash tub was nowhere to be seen. At some point, Mulder had done a lot of tidying and I'd slept through all of it. After pulling my dress on, I shuffled to the door and switched to my outside moccasins. When I pulled the door open, I gasped at the rush of cold air that swept into the cabin. I shut the door again quickly. There was no way I was going to walk to the outhouse in just my dress so I went back to the bed to look in the baskets for my coat.

"What are you looking for?" Mulder mumbled sleepily.

"My coat. It's freezing out," I explained.

"It's hanging on the pegs on the south wall," he told me. "I promise the chamber pot will be on the top of my list in Green Bay, Scully."

"Thank you," I chuckled as I stood up. "Go back to sleep," I pressed a kiss to his lips.

After pulling on my coat, I relit a candle and opened the door again. Luckily, despite the cold, it wasn't windy and my candle wasn't blown out. I'd grown used to dealing with many garments in an outhouse when we were in Madison, so I didn't struggle and was back in bed with Mulder in no time.

The next time I woke, Mulder's lips were on my neck and his erection was pressed against me. We made love slowly. In fact, we'd never taken that much time to love each other in our entire relationship. There'd always been something that had to be done. The sun was halfway to its apex when I next had to go outside.

Even though there was still cooking and cleaning to do, we spent most of the day in each other's arms. Mulder moved the deerskin in front of the fire to make love to me there even more leisurely than he had first thing that morning. He insisted on proving how well the table had been constructed by fucking me soundly on top of it. The least I could do was to prove to him that the chair had been equally well built. I really didn't think he'd be able to manage a fifth time, but he surprised me by making love to me in our bed again that night. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that Mulder would be able to make love to me more times in one day than anyone else had ever been able to.

In spite of the hours of sex, I still managed to fry up two batches of bannock for Mulder to take with him. We packed oatmeal, wild rice and dried meat. He was only going to take one change of clothes to use for the actual shopping in Green Bay. That was the only reason I was glad I wasn't accompanying them. They would each take a knife and Mulder was taking his gun and all of the ammunition he had left. He hoped to get two deer to use for trade. Then we sat down at the table and made a list. I put two asterisks beside the must haves like lard, candles, flour, cornmeal, salt, baking soda, sugar and the chamber pot. A single asterisk went beside a bolt of bleached muslin, wool and whatever root crops he could find, like potatoes, onions or carrots. Then I listed things that would be nice to have if he ended up with more money than we'd imagined, like a clock, honey, and cheese. Just writing the list was exciting. It felt like I was a child again, writing my letter to Santa. I had to remember to tell myself that there was no way we'd ever be able to afford everything on the list, but even if he managed to get half of it, I'd be happier than I'd ever been on any Christmas morning. It never would have occurred to me, even a year ago, that a bolt of muslin or a jar of honey would make me this happy, never mind an onion or a couple of potatoes.

Mulder and I didn't get a chance to make love again the next morning. Jack woke us from a sound sleep before first light. I made breakfast for both of them and then helped them with their packs. The travois were stacked high with furs and deerskin. At first, I couldn't imagine how Jack would've done this without Mulder but then I realized someone else would've likely helped him to the canoe. I kept a smile pasted on my face as we kissed goodbye. I stood on the porch and watched until I could no longer see them. It was then that I allowed my tears to flow.

Wanik found me on the bench on the porch, my body still wracked with sobs. She held me for a few minutes, rubbing my back, but then she stood up and took my hand. She brought me back into the cabin and we started to clean up. After we'd made the bed and cleaned the dishes she asked me where the baby blanket was, obviously wanting me to occupy my time with knitting, but there was something else I'd been planning to do.

Wanik watched with interest as I sat down at the table with a piece of paper and pen and ink. I began by drawing a square that filled the entire page. Then I made seven columns. I had to cast my mind back to when we'd left Madison, and assuming my memory was accurate, I made 6 rows. After putting letters in the first row, I put a one in the fifth column in the second row and then proceeded to fill in the rest of the numbers. Today was Saturday November 10th. Jack said they should be back in two weeks, so I put a circle around Saturday November 24th. I intended to cross a day off of my calendar each night before I went to bed. There was no way I could explain to Wanik what I'd just drawn, so I just set it at the back of the table and cleaned off my pen.

I hadn't worked on my knitting for a couple of days, but it only took me an hour to finish it off. We worked outside on the porch. The sun had warmed the air and we were out of the wind. My hands we cool, but I knew in a month we'd be forced inside for the winter, so I was going to get my fresh air when I could. When I'd completed casting off, I held up my work to inspect it. It was large enough that an infant could be swaddled in it and as the baby grew, it would just be a blanket.

I made tea for Wanik that afternoon and was pleased to discover that she really enjoyed it. Wanik stayed and had supper with me, but then left to go back to the village. After I crossed Saturday the 10th off my calendar and climbed into bed, I prayed that Mulder and Jack were safe and then cried myself to sleep.

After that first day, Wanik started bringing me back to the village almost every day. One day she finally showed me that the flour we'd made from the acorns was a thickener. I showed her how to make biscuits and we enjoyed venison with biscuits and gravy that night for supper. Since we had the time, she also showed me how to stretch and tan both a deer and moose hide. I carefully inspected the shirt Mulder had left behind, and used some blue cotton to make him a brand new shirt. Luckily I'd brought buttons with me from Madison, or it would've had to have been a pullover. I became a dab hand making booties and could make a pair in a single day, but I stopped at four. I also made three bonnets, all from the same beige wool.

Wanik surprised me by giving me two handfuls of embroidery thread. When I looked at her in surprise, she said something and shrugged. I gathered she wasn't intending to use it. I was thrilled to have something to decorate my knitting with.

A week after I'd put the stitches in Chachu's leg, I showed Omiga how to remove them again. He was impressed with how well the wound had healed. I'd done a much better job of stitches when I'd had the proper tools, but all things considered, his scar didn't look too bad.

The first day it rained, the 18th, I brought the women back to the cabin. It was nice to have a houseful, even if some of us had to sit on the floor. I took that opportunity to use some of the red embroidery thread to finish the edges of the blanket with a blanket stitch. It wasn't very artistic, but it improved the look of the blanket dramatically. Wanik showed it to everyone and they murmured approvingly. I, however, wasn't satisfied. As the women chatted, I got a piece of paper and began to draw. I wasn't very talented, but I hoped to manage something simple.

When Wanik saw me pick up more embroidery thread, she looked puzzled, so I showed her the picture I'd drawn. Her eyes widened and she said something to the women. They all watched closely as I began to stitch. I was no master embroiderer but my mother had taught me the basics when I was little. I would've preferred to be out running around with the boys, but I also wanted to make my mother happy, so I made a few pictures that had hung in my room until I left for college.

It ended up taking me longer to finish the embroidery than it had the entire blanket. It was then that I realized why handicrafts were prized and handed down through generations. Wanik had watched me make Mulder's new shirt and I was surprised when she retrieved it from under the bed. I hadn't realized how closely she'd been watching me work, but she was obviously a quick study. On the 20th I finished the green vine that ran in a diagonal line from corner to corner of the baby blanket. By the 21st, Wanik had embroidered an entire sun with rays on the back of Mulder's new shirt. I had wanted to make him something practical and Wanik had ended up making it beautiful. I knew that on Jack's next trip he'd be bringing back more embroidery thread, now that Wanik knew what to do with it.

The Thursday before Mulder and Jack were due back, Wanik took me for a walk in the woods. We picked branches of a bush with red berries. I recognized it as hawthorn. Back at the cabin she showed how to braid the branches together to make a wreath. I hung the wreath over the inside of the door and was immediately struck by how great it looked; the bright red berries against the yellow new wood of the logs. When I looked at the vast open space over the fireplace, I knew I had to make a second one. It took me no time at all to make another. I'm sure Mulder would be amused at how romantic I was being, but I thought the heart-shaped wreath of red berries was gorgeous. He was going to be surprised at everything I'd made while he was gone. I was proud of what I'd accomplished.

On Friday morning, I flew out of bed. I wanted to scrub the cabin from top to bottom for Mulder's return. I was shocked when I opened the cabin door to find several inches of snow on the ground and more falling. I hoped with all of my heart that Mulder was warm enough and it wouldn't snow enough to slow their progress. I was in the middle of cleaning out the fireplace when Wanik showed up. While I finished, she retrieved my doeskin from the lean-to and began to cut it. It didn't take me long to realize she was making me moccasin boots. It was almost as if she knew I'd gotten snow in my moccasins on my way to the outhouse earlier that morning. I said a silent prayer of thanks that Mulder had opted to wear the boots he'd picked up in Madison.

When I'd finished with the fireplace, I joined Wanik on the bench and she showed me how sew up the boot. With both of us working on them, we were done by noon. Wanik left me alone again and I scrubbed the cabin floor. I shook out all of the blankets and remade the bed. I planned to make sheets if Mulder was able to afford the muslin. Before I crawled into bed, I had a bath. I knew he wouldn't be clean, but I wanted to be as clean as possible for him.

It took forever to get to sleep that night. I was bursting with excitement at the thought of seeing Mulder again. When I woke on Saturday morning, I ran my hand over my abdomen and was delighted to find a gentle rise. I'd popped. I couldn't wait to show Mulder. I bounded out of bed and stoked the fire. When I opened the cabin door, I was happy to see that only about four inches of snow had fallen and the air was slightly warmer. I hoped by midday, most of the snow would have melted. After I ate my breakfast, I made a pot of stew. I was expecting Mulder to be hungry. I knew Jack wasn't the only fan of my cornbread, so I made a batch of that too.

When Wanik showed up, she seemed a little surprised by all of my cooking. I couldn't understand why she wasn't as excited as I was. I kept going out onto the porch and looking in the direction they'd gone, but I saw nothing except melting snow and trees. When dusk fell it occurred to me that perhaps Jack's two weeks had been an estimate and that's why Wanik had been so bemused by all of my preparations. I asked her to bring her parents back to the cabin for dinner. I didn't want to waste all of the food I'd made.

Mulder and Jack didn't show up on Sunday. Monday morning I convinced myself that they must be close. I even walked out along the river in the direction they'd gone but I saw and heard nothing except the occasional chickadee and the wind. On Tuesday I began to worry. Would Jack's estimate have been this wrong? What if one of them had been injured? What if the gun had misfired? What if they'd been attacked by a bear? What if they'd been held up for the furs or the goods they'd traded for? I tried to push those thoughts out of my head, but as I lay in bed on Tuesday night, my body was wracked with sobs again.

On Wednesday morning, I shook my head no, when Wanik came to take me back to the village. Instead I lay curled into a ball on our bed. She stayed with me and cooked some porridge. I ate a bit of it to appease her, but my stomach was churning. I was surprised when she spoke to me harshly, and pointed to my belly, but she was right. I needed to eat. The food sat in my stomach like a rock. I began to think about how I was going to cope on my own. I probably had enough food to make it through the winter on my own, but what about after that? How was I going to be able to provide for myself never mind our baby? At that thought I felt bile begin to rise in my throat. I ran to the door and pulled it open. I heard Wanik calling my name, but I kept stumbling toward the outhouse. I didn't make it. I threw up in the snow. When Wanik caught up with me, I was still retching.

She brought me back to the cabin and got me a cup of water. I was surprised when she murmured something and then left me alone, but in 10 minutes she returned with Omiga. The old healer checked me over thoroughly. He looked at my eyes. He looked in my mouth. He felt my throat and even under my arms. I knew he was looking for signs of illness, but how could I explain to him that I was heartsick.

"Mulder," I tried to explain to him and when I burst into tears, I think he finally understood. Wanik sat on the bed with me and tried to comfort me while Omiga went to work at the fire. In half an hour he brought me a cup of liquid. It smelled foul, but I knew he wouldn't give me anything that would hurt me or the baby. Shortly after I choked it down, I felt my eyes grow heavy. When I woke up I was alone. The fire was burning brightly and when I opened the cabin door, I was met with darkness. After a trip to the outhouse I noticed that I was finally hungry. I made myself some oatmeal and threw in some currents and walnuts.

The food made me feel marginally better. I crawled back into bed and stared numbly at the ceiling. As I lay there I realized that I would have to carry on. Wanik managed to support herself with her crafts, so I could do the same. I wasn't as talented as she was, but I could knit and embroider and I was learning new things every day. I knew Namid's tribe wouldn't abandon me, but I'd returned here to share my life with Mulder, and now I was alone. Almost as if to remind me, I felt a fluttering in my belly. I wouldn't be alone. I would have our child. Despite my effort to keep my emotions under control, the thought of raising our child alone brought fresh tears to my eyes and I sobbed until I exhausted myself again.


	18. Chapter 17

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 17

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 17

It was light outside when I woke up on Thursday morning. I felt like I'd been anaesthetized. I did my chores like a robot. I made a small pot of stew. I did some laundry and hung it on the line. I went with Wanik in the afternoon and joined the women in the large wigwam. It was too cold and snowy too sit outside. I started to work on another blanket. One would not be enough. At supper I trudged back to the cabin to eat. Even though I'd made very little stew, I couldn't eat all of it and had to put it in the lean-to. When I went to use the outhouse before bed, I discovered that the wind had picked up and it was snowing again. It was November 29th. It was to be expected.

While I was in the outhouse, the wind began to howl. The sound that it made in the trees was eerie. I couldn't help thinking that maybe Mulder was out in this somewhere and was cold. My heart began to ache again and my eyes filled with tears. As I stumbled back to the cabin, the wind pushed and pulled at me. It whooshed and whipped and cried with me. I was almost at the porch when I heard a sound that made me stop short. It almost sounded like a whistle. I turned toward the sound, only to have the wind slap me in the face. With a sigh, I turned around continued toward the stairs, but then I heard it again. It sounded like a shrill whistle, like the whistle Jack had used to let Wanik know they were coming when we'd brought their lunch to the cabin.

My heart began to pound wildly in my chest. I turned into the wind again. Tears were squeezing out of my eyes as I fought to walk in the direction of the whistling.

"Mulder!" I called into the night, but the wind carried his name off of my lips.

I heard the sound again, this time closer. It was definitely a whistle.

"Mulder!" I screamed this time. I screamed louder than I'd ever screamed in my life.

I dropped to my knees at the next sound I heard. It was faint, but I definitely heard it.

"Scully..."

I scrambled to my feet again and began to run in the direction of his voice, screaming his name as I ran. Through the snow, I finally saw them; two figures, trudging toward me. I recognized Mulder's form instantly. I kept calling his name as I ran. As soon as he saw me, he dropped his travois and flew in my direction. When he threw his arms around me, I couldn't stop myself from sobbing, yet again.

"I'm here, Scully. It's okay," he told me as he kissed me. He was sporting almost a full-fledged beard and it scratched me as we kissed, but I couldn't have cared less. "I'm sorry we were so long. We had so much to bring back, it took longer than Jack thought it would."

"I was so scared, Mulder," I clutched at him. "I thought something terrible had happened."

Jack had kept walking during our reunion and had returned to pick up Mulder's travois. Mulder carried me back to the cabin.

"Jack wanted to camp out one more night because he knew it would be dark when we got back, but I had to see you," Mulder told me as he walked. "I knew you'd be worried and it was tearing me apart."

When he had climbed to the porch, he made me stay outside while he and Jack unloaded the travois and their packs inside. I paced back and forth impatiently as I waited.

"We have to go back to the canoe," he told me when he returned to the porch. He chuckled at what must have been a look of desolation on my face. "Go and get Wanik and Apram and bring them back here. We'll be as fast as we can and no peaking!" he warned me.

I no longer cared that the wind was howling as I walked to the village. I was so happy that Mulder was back, I barely felt the cold. Wanik was surprised when I showed up at her wigwam.

"Mulder and Jack are back," I beamed at her. She understood immediately and pulled on her boots. I told her that we were supposed to bring Apram, so she fetched him too. When we got back to the cabin, I explained that we weren't allowed to look under the deerskins covering the goods that were piled on the floor of the cabin. I kept myself busy while we waited by getting the stew from the lean-to and putting it on the fire to heat it up. Then I put water on for tea and mixed up a batch of bannock. Wanik and Apram had finished their tea when I heard Jack's whistle. Apram went out the meet them while I dished out stew for Mulder and Jack, happy that I'd made too much for myself.

It was steaming on the table for them when the door opened. They left their travois on the porch and came inside. Jack and Apram talked excitedly while they ate. I poured more tea for everyone and then just leaned against Mulder and stroked his hair. He slipped his arm around my waist and held me while he finished his food. They must have been ravenous because they finished their food in nothing flat.

"Okay," Mulder rubbed his hands together. "Now it's time to separate everything."

"I can't wait to see what you got," I grinned.

"Well, you're gonna have to," he returned my grin.

"What?" I furrowed my brow.

"I want it to be a surprise, so get up onto the bed, lay face down and make sure you can't see anything," he nodded at the bed as he spoke.

"You have got to be kidding me," I looked at him wide-eyed.

"Not for a second, Scully," he was completely serious. "I've been planning this since we left Green Bay."

I didn't move. I just stood there staring at him in disbelief. He smiled and took a step toward me and I thought he was finally going to tell me that he'd been joking, but instead he bent his head to my ear and whispered, "I want it to be just us, Scully. I want us to be alone when I show you what I got for us."

"Okay," I whispered back. After feeling his hot breath on my ear I would've agreed to wait in the outhouse. I climbed onto the bed and lay face down. I put my head on my forearms and squeezed my eyes closed. Now instead of thinking about what Mulder had bought, all I could focus on was the persistent throb between my legs that his voice and breath had caused.

It seemed like an eternity of shuffling, rustling, scraping, thuds and doors opening and closing before it sounded like they were done.

"Okay, you can look now," Mulder confirmed my suspicions.

There still seemed to be a huge mound covered by two deerskins despite the fact that Jack and Apram were holding two bulging travois.

"Did you get the gun?" I asked excitedly.

"Yup," Mulder grinned.

Jack said something to Apram and he turned to show me the rifle he had slung over his shoulder.

"That's fantastic! And you still had enough money to buy all of this?" I was amazed.

"I still have a bit of money in my pocket," Mulder shook his leg so I could hear the coins jingling. "I guess we can save for something, because there was no way we could have carried any more."

"Mulder isn't mentioning that he shot three deer. We had more money than we knew what to do with," Jack laughed. "We should go now," he added with a smile.

"How about you and Wanik come back for supper on Saturday," I asked him as I got off of the bed. "I'm sure I'll need time to get all of this organized." I didn't want to say that what I really wanted was another day with Mulder all to myself.

"When is Saturday?" Jack asked. "We kind of lost track."

"Day after tomorrow," I laughed.

"Sounds good," he nodded.

Mulder held the door while they struggled out with the travois and we watched together as they disappeared into the snowy night back toward the village. Mulder took my hand and we walked back into the cabin; alone at last.

"Where do you want to sit?" Mulder grinned at me once the door was closed.

"Actually, Mulder, there's something I'd like to show you first, if that's okay," I asked him tentatively, knowing he was excited about his haul.

"Sure," he sounded a little cautious.

I couldn't stop myself from grinning as I pulled my dress over my head.

"Did you miss me?" he winked at me.

"Yes," I laughed, "But I'm not trying to entice you." I explained as I loosened the ribbon on my cotton underwear. I lowered them to my hips and turned sideways. "This is what I wanted to show you," I beamed at him as I ran my hand over my bump.

"Scully, you're showing!" he was beside me with his hand on my belly in one stride.

"And I felt the baby move," my eyes began to brim with tears.

"Will I be able to feel it?" his eyes were wide.

"Not for a while," I shook my head. "It's only been a flutter so far."

"I'm sorry I missed it," he gathered me into his arms.

"You're back now. That's all that matters," I smiled up at him.

"I missed you so much, Scully," he breathed as he lowered his lips to mine.

We'd barely begun to kiss when I felt him begin to harden against me. I couldn't stop myself from groaning and pressing myself against him, wantonly.

"Are we going to look at what's under the skins or make love?" he chuckled into my mouth.

"I choose door number two," I slid my hand between us to caress his erection.

"I can guarantee we'll be looking at the booty in less than 5 minutes," he laughed. "I'm probably gonna come the instant I'm inside of you."

"Don't care," I pulled him toward the bed.

Mulder was right about finishing quickly, although he didn't come immediately. He managed to last long enough to bring me with him when he came. We did however stay on the bed kissing for a long time, so it was probably closer to fifteen minutes before he began his show. I pulled my dress back on and sat on the edge of the bed in anticipation.

"Okay," he grinned. "First things, first," he went to the back door and opened it.

I didn't know what to think when he returned carrying what looked like an oak box.

"Don't you know what it is?" he laughed.

I could only shake my head. He opened the top to reveal the most important thing he'd gone for; my chamber pot.

"Oh my god, Mulder, that's gorgeous. I was just expecting a ceramic pot," I got off of the bed to look at it more closely.

"They had those, but I couldn't figure out where we'd put it. Our clothes are under the bed so when I saw this, I knew it would be perfect," he explained.

"It is perfect," I stood on my tiptoes to give him a quick kiss.

"Next is something that wasn't on your list. It's something I got for myself," he smiled mischievously at me and disappeared into the lean-to again.

He returned carrying a huge copper tub. It was at least three times the size of the one we'd brought from Madison.

"We'll probably both fit in that," I looked at him in shock.

"That was the plan," he grinned.

"How did you possibly have room for it?" I asked in amazement.

"It was on the bottom of my travois and I just filled it up with other stuff," he explained. "And now something for you," he peaked under the deerskin and reached in. He pulled his hand out slowly to reveal a small mantle clock.

"A clock!" I gasped. "I can't believe you had enough money for a clock!"

"Three deer got a lot in trade. It wasn't just the meat, but the skins, too," he told me. "I assume it's going on the -," Mulder looked over the mantle for the first time. "Scully," he turned to look at me in awe. "Did you make that?" He'd finally spotted the hawthorn heart I'd made.

"Ya," I smiled broadly. "Wanik showed me how."

"You're such a hopeless romantic," he bent to kiss me softly. "You kept that tidbit hidden from me for a long time."

"It didn't really seem to have a place in our partnership," I rolled my eyes at him.

"I guess," he admitted with a sigh as he turned to put the clock on the mantle. "So how are we going to set this?"

"If it's sunny tomorrow, when the sun is directly overhead, I'll set it to noon. It won't be exact, but it'll be close enough," I told him.

"Okay," he nodded. "Now how about something for both of us," he stood up. "Actually, it's three things," he went back to the lean-to again. He returned carrying a pitcher, bowl and a mirror. "Now I can shave," he grinned.

"I didn't even think of a mirror," I shook my head in amazement.

"I'll have to build a little table for this, but that'll take me no time at all," he explained as he set all three on the table.

"How did you get it back without breaking it?" I still couldn't believe it.

"I wrapped all of this in the fabric you asked for," he confessed as he retrieved a large bundle of bleached muslin and handed it to me.

"Whatever works," I laughed as I began to refold the material neatly.

"The rest of this is food," he grinned as he lifted the skins off with a flourish.

I couldn't believe my eyes. I scrambled to the floor in front of the pile and began to sort through all of it. There was the flour and cornmeal I'd asked for, plus something I hadn't thought of; a cake of yeast. It was a good thing I learned from Rosaline what to do with it. I found salt and baking soda and a small brown bag labelled cinnamon. There was lard, an entire wheel of cheese, a tin of honey and another of molasses. He'd brought a huge bag of potatoes, and smaller ones of carrots and onions. There were a couple of turnips, two acorn squash, a crate of apples and even dried apples. He bought a small bag of sweet potatoes, more dried beans, barley and corn. He'd bought more coffee and tea and oatmeal. There were raisins and currants and another small brown bag labelled sage. When I took a deep breath I could smell it through the bag. He hadn't been entirely accurate that it was all food. I discovered a couple of bread tins, some pie tins, a ceramic mixing bowl and small glass jars that I could use for the spices. The last two things I uncovered were a bag of pepper and a tin of jam. My hands shook as I began to sort things into groups.

"We should put this all away," I wanted it all to be safe and sound.

"I still have more," he grinned.

"You couldn't possibly," my mouth hung open in shock.

"If you were surprised at the mirror...," he smiled mysteriously as he went to the lean-to again. "I got another bolt of fabric," he handed me a bunched up wad of pale green cotton with sprigs of darker green leaves on it. "Because I needed it to wrap these," he pulled out two panes of glass that were about a foot square.

"Windows!" I gasped.

"These were the most expensive things I bought," his eyes were wide.

"Windows!" I repeated in shock. "How did you -?"

"I carried them in my pack," he explained. "I figured it was the safest place. They aren't big," he shrugged as if in apology.

"Are you kidding, Mulder? They will make all the difference," I assured him. "Will they be hard to install?"

"No," he shook his head. "Jack assured me that they always go in after the cabin is built anyway."

"What about the candles? Did you still get some?" I hoped he hadn't forgotten.

"Two boxes full," he nodded. "They're in the lean-to."

"This is amazing, Mulder," I sat on the floor surveying everything he'd bought.

"There's still more," he grinned, obviously pleased with himself.

"What more could you have possibly carried?" I looked at him in shock.

"Well, I got more wool, like you asked. I got different colors, too and other sewing stuff that I hope you'll be able to use," He retrieved a large bundle wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.

I opened it carefully, to preserve the string and the paper, to reveal a color wheel of wool. There were several skeins of white, pink, yellow, green, blue, red and navy wool. There was also an assortment of ribbons, needles, thread and an assortment of buttons but it was the rainbow of embroidery thread that stunned me the most.

"How did you know to get embroidery thread?" I asked in awe.

"I didn't," he shrugged. "The wife of the store owner put that together. I told her we were expecting and she collected all of that. Did you need it?"

"Need it? No, but Wanik gave me her embroidery thread because she didn't know what to do with it until I showed her. Now I can share this with her," I told him excitedly.

He knelt beside me to press another kiss to my lips. "I have a couple more small things," he smiled. "I got some candy and newspapers and these," he reached into his pocket and pulled out more small brown bags. "I'm not sure if we'll have any place to plant them."

He'd handed me seeds; carrot seeds, lettuce seeds, and peas and beans.

"I'm sure we'll find somewhere to plant them," I nodded.

"Oh, and these," he handed me another bag sheepishly.

I started to laugh as soon as I read the label. I laughed so hard that tears began to run down my face and I was gasping for breath. "Not what you were expecting?" I managed to ask finally.

"It's not that funny," he pouted.

"You could still eat them," I chuckled. "But if you let me plant them, by next fall you could have what you were actually hoping for."

"Really?" his face brightened.

"Really," I nodded. "And the sunflowers will be pretty," I gave his knee a squeeze.

"Thanks," he smiled. "I also bought us some newspapers and something else I don't think would've occurred to you."

"What?" I couldn't imagine anything else I could possibly want.

"Books!" he grinned.

"Books," I repeated. "Really, I wouldn't have -, which books?" I was trying to remember what had been written by 1838.

"I got some James Fennimore Cooper and Sir Walter Scott and a collection of Shakespeare. I wasn't sure if you'd read any of them," he looked doubtful.

"I don't care if I have or not," I threw my arms around him. "I'll be delighted just to read a book again!"

"Mmm, I thought that might be the case," he kissed me softly.

"So?"

"So what?" he pulled back to look at me.

"Is that it? Do you have anything stuffed into your pants?" I laughed.

"Well," he waggled his eyebrows.

"I guess I asked for that," I laughed. "But I'll take that as a no. I still can't believe you managed all of this."

"Plus the stuff that Jack and Apram took," he reminded me.

"How, Mulder?" I shook my head in disbelief. "How did you carry it all?"

"The heavy stuff was in the canoe, so we only had to carry it for the last stretch," he clarified. "The reason it took so long is because we had to walk all the way back."

"How did you bring the canoe back?" I didn't understand.

"We had ropes tied to it and then to our waists," he explained. "The travois were more work even though they had the lighter stuff on them."

"I'm still in shock," I shook my head. "This is better than Christmas," I chuckled. "Which reminds me, do you know what today is?"

"Thursday?"

"Thanksgiving," I grinned. "And I know I've never been more thankful in my life," I pressed my lips to his. It was then that I suddenly noticed that he didn't smell nearly as bad as I was expecting him to. He threw his head back and laughed when I asked him why.

"I bought a bar of soap and washed my clothes the night before last and took a bath in the river this morning. I wanted you to be able to get close to me," he admitted.

"You took a bath in the river? It must have been freezing," I stroked his hair.

"You braved icy water to get us wild onions," he reminded me. "I think being clean for you was far more important."

"Thank you," I chuckled. "So is it my turn?"

"Your turn for what?" he looked at me in surprise.

"Well, I didn't sit around twiddling my thumbs while you were gone," I smiled cryptically. "I don't have nearly as much to show you though."

"Who cares?" he grinned. "Lemme see."

I pulled one of the baskets out from under the bed and pulled out the things I'd made for the baby. He ran his hand over the vine on the blanket in amazement. "You did this?"

"Ya," I smiled. "I'm working on another one, but now I've got all that wool, I may restart," I grinned.

"These booties are so small," he turned them over in his hand.

"There's one other thing," I pulled the shirt out of the basket. "I made the shirt, but Wanik is responsible for the back," I explained as I handed it to him.

"This is what she did after you showed her how to embroider?" he looked at the sun in amazement.

"She's incredibly gifted," I nodded. "I hope I can learn even a tiny bit of what she can do."

"Her work did bring in the most money in Green Bay," Mulder nodded. "I'll wear this for dinner on Saturday," he smiled as he leaned over to kiss me.

"We should make it our Thanksgiving dinner," I was suddenly excited. "I know we'll be a couple of days late and we don't have a turkey, but we'll have everything else."

"I think we have exactly what we're supposed to have," Mulder corrected me. "This is what it's supposed to be about, Scully. Being thankful for everything we have and I don't mean just the food."

"I know," I leaned against him and delighted in his embrace. "Mmm," I straightened up. "Let's put everything away before we go to bed. It must be late."

"Hopefully, by tomorrow we'll know how late," he nodded.

It took us at least half an hour to stash everything in the lean-to and root cellar, partially because I kept rearranging things, but Mulder didn't complain once. When it was done, I still stood with a candle in my hand just staring at our supplies. Gone were the fears that we may not have enough to last the winter. Instead I felt a sense of peace and contentment. Mulder chuckled at me when I heaved a huge sigh.

"Come to bed," he held out his hand. "You can look at in again in the morning."

In spite of how late it was, my body responded to Mulder as soon as he climbed into bed beside me. I was expecting energetic sex, since we'd been apart so long, but he had other ideas. He made love to me slowly and sensuously. He talked to me the entire time. I think I may have spoken too, but I was so lost in him that I can't remember. I'd always been able to lose myself in him easily. In fact, it had started on our first case. Although, here in his arms, as he moved above me and within me, I didn't care if I ever found my way back. I was mesmerized by the love I saw in his eyes and captivated by his words. The only time he stopped telling me how beautiful I was, how much he loved me and how much he'd missed me was when my body grew taut in anticipation of my orgasm. At that point he lowered his lips to mine and groaned into my mouth as we peaked together.

In the morning I decided to take control of our love making. It was something Mulder had never objected to. He was on his back, gazing up at me with reverence. I was straddling him and less than an inch from having him inside of me when someone knocked on the door.

"Shit," Mulder groaned as I collapsed to the bed beside him.

"I guess we should've been more clear about what we wanted to do today," I chuckled.

"Be right there," Mulder called.

"I'll dress in the lean-to," I told him as I grabbed one of the candles we had burning and the basket that held my clothes.

Mulder was pulling on his pants when I opened the back door. The lean-to was freezing. It was amazing how much the fire warmed the cabin. The coldness inspired me to dress quickly. Mulder's eyes widened in surprise when I opened the door again. It was the first time since our return that I'd worn one of the dresses Rosaline have given me in Madison.

"It's getting cold," I answered the question that he'd asked with his eyes. "Have you eaten?" I looked to Jack.

"I have," he nodded.

"Okay, I'll just make us some oatmeal," I told Mulder as I went back to the lean-to to gather up what I needed.

"Where are you going?" Mulder asked when I began to pull on my coat.

"I need water," I lifted up the bucket I was carrying.

"I'll get it," he stood up from the table. "You tell Jack where you want the windows," he smiled at me. When I handed him the bucket, he bent down surprised me with a kiss. "You look beautiful," he breathed when he straightened up again.

I looked down at my navy dress in puzzlement. Granted, navy was a good colour on me, but beyond that I couldn't figure out what the attraction was.

"This dress accentuates your figure," it was his turn to answer a question that hadn't been asked. "You aren't wearing the corset, are you?" he asked suddenly.

"Loosely," I chuckled. "Are you going or not? I would've been back by now," I rolled my eyes.

While Mulder was gone, I told Jack that I wanted one window over the table and the other in the middle of the south wall. They started to work on the south-facing opening while I made breakfast and coffee. After we ate, I cleaned the dishes while they chiselled at the logs.

It had been a long time since we'd had yeast bread, so I decided to keep myself busy with that while they worked. I'd let the yeast rise in warm water and sugar, put some flour and salt in a my new mixing bowl and added some melted lard before I realized that I didn't even have to stop and think about the proportions. I'd made bread so many times at the boarding house, it was second nature. I was in the middle of kneading when Wanik showed up. If she thought it was odd that I was wearing my navy dress, she made no indication.

The men were now using a saw and the opening to the outside was growing. Consequently the temperature in the room was dropping. I was going to have to move the dough closer to the fire to rise. I retrieved the trivet that Mulder had brought from Madison and placed the bowl on it near the hearth and covered it with a damp cloth. Wanik watched as I worked, but said nothing. As soon as I washed my hands, I went back to the lean-to and grabbed the handiwork materials Mulder had brought back.

Wanik's eyes opened wide in surprise when she saw all of. She murmured something in awe. When she saw the embroidery thread, she got a far-way look in her eyes.

"What?" I asked her.

She said something quickly in Mesquakie that I didn't understand. All I heard was Jack's Indian name.

"What?" I repeated.

"Ambe," she crooked her finger at me and knelt down beside the bed. "Onabi," she patted the deerskin beside her. Then she looked over her shoulder to make sure we weren't being watched. I had no idea what she was doing. When she pulled out the shirt we'd made together for Mulder and repeated Jack's Indian name, I knew immediately what she wanted.

"Eya, of course," I nodded. "Ambe," I said as I got up. I relit the candle that was sitting on the table and picked the holder up to take into the lean-to where I showed her the bolts of fabric I had. When I picked up the blue cotton and turned toward her, I found her staring in awe at the loaded shelves.

"Eya, it's a lot," I chuckled.

"Niibowa," she nodded.

"Do you like the blue?" I held up the fabric.

"Ozhaashizi babagiwayaaniigin," she nodded.

"I'll take that as a yes," I chuckled.

"How big?" I put the candle down to hold my hands at varying widths.

"Naasaab Mulder," she indicated toward the other room.

"I hope that means the same as Mulder's," I laughed, but I realized that if I made it the same as Mulder's it would definitely fit Jack. Jack was a couple inches shorter and only a little larger through the shoulders. Mulder's shirt wasn't tight by any stretch of the imagination, so I was confident that it would fit. This time when I took Mulder's old shirt apart, I would make a pattern using the brown paper a lot of our purchases had been wrapped in. I didn't want to keep taking his shirt apart and re-sewing it every time I made him a new shirt.

I was quickly realizing that I needed some place to keep all of my sewing things. The basket I'd brought with me from Madison was no longer big enough for everything I now had. When I looked around at the shelves, I spotted the two boxes of candles that Mulder had brought. Wanik watched me curiously as I cut a piece of the new green cloth off. I took the candle boxes off of the shelf and put the cloth where they'd been. After taking the lids off of the boxes, I emptied the candles out onto the shelf on top of the cloth. Then I took the basket of walnuts and emptied it into the one box. After doing the same with the chestnuts, I had two baskets for my growing collection of sewing accoutrements.

Five months ago I used to spend my time thinking about what weird investigation Mulder would want my help with. Left to my own devices, I never would have chosen to look into the cases he did. Sometimes I told him what I thought about his choices, but usually I went with him, mostly just to be with him; to make sure he didn't get injured or get himself into trouble. While I'd completely failed to do that in this case, I was happier than I can remember being in a very long time. I was thinking about what I could make for Mulder and our baby with what he'd brought back from Green Bay, and I was completely content.

End chapter 17


	19. Chapter 19

Old Growth Forest

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

After filling the baskets up, we went back into the cabin. When I closed the door to the lean-to I discovered that Jack and Mulder had the hole in the south wall complete. Mulder was handing Jack thin strips of wood and Jack was nailing them to the logs. It looked like a frame for the window; something to push the glass up against. The room felt almost as cool as the lean-to, making me worried about my dough. I put the baskets on the bed and went to check it. By peering under the cloth, I discovered to my relief that it was rising just fine. I turned the bowl around to make sure both sides got the benefit of the fire. I wanted to start on Jack's shirt right away, but I needed to make lunch.

"I should start getting lunch," I said to Wanik, positive that she had no idea what I was saying, but I still felt compelled to explain what I was doing.

She came with me to the meat shed and watched as I selected a piece of venison. Before he left for Green Bay, Mulder had made sure our deer was cut into manageable pieces. Not only did it make the meat easier to work with, but it had also ensured that it had all frozen thoroughly shortly after they left. It made it more difficult to work with, but as long as my knife was sharp, I'd be fine.

By the time we got back to the cabin, the men had slid the pane of glass into the hole and Jack was cautiously securing it by nailing thin pieces of wood around it. One slip of the hammer and our most expensive purchase would be shattered.

Wanik sat at the table and watched as I cubed the venison.

"Biidoo-nibi, please," I asked her as I was considering everything I still had to do.

"Eya," she jumped up with a smile, seemingly pleased that I'd given her something to do.

When she returned I was browning the meat in some melted lard. She put the bucket on the floor beside me and sat down to watch me again. The window had only been in place for a few minutes but I could feel the cabin warming up already. When I checked my dough, I found it rising out of the bowl. After washing my hands, I turned it out onto the table and punched it down. When I set it near the fire again, I pulled the trivet back. I didn't want it baking instead of rising.

I removed the browned venison from the fire and then went to the root cellar. Wanik watched intently when I returned with a carrot, an onion and three potatoes. After peeling and dicing the onion quickly, I added it to the meat and swung it back over the fire.

"Could you stir this, please, Wanik?" I gave her the long handled spoon and showed her what I wanted her to do. She jumped up quickly to take over.

I washed the carrot and potatoes carefully and then peeled them, reserving the peelings to make stock with, as Rosaline had taught me. I got the distinct impression that she didn't think much of the way my mother had raised me, since there were so many things she had to teach me that she had considered common sense. After I'd added the diced potatoes and carrots to the pot, I covered everything with water. Then I went to the lean-to and grabbed the salt and pepper and two of the bottles Mulder had bought. After filling them carefully, I returned the brown bags to the lean-to. Wanik watched as I seasoned the stew, swung it over the fire again and placed the salt and pepper on the mantle.

Once I'd cleaned up, I checked my dough and discovered that I still had some time before it would be doubled.

Jack and Mulder were just sweeping up their mess when I turned to check on their progress. It was amazing how much that one tiny window had brightened the cabin and they still had another to install.

"It's gorgeous," I gushed.

"It makes a huge difference, doesn't it?" He beamed.

"Huge." I nodded in agreement.

"We're gonna have to move the table now." He nodded toward where we'd decided the other window should go.

"Just be careful of the dough." I pointed toward the trivet.

So as I sat on the bed and began to deconstruct Mulder's shirt for the second time, Jack and Mulder moved the table under the new window and began the process of chiselling the logs out for a second time. I'd only taken out one seam when I noticed that my dough was ready. I took it to the table, punched it down and shaped it into two loaves. After cleaning my new bread pans, I greased them and put the dough in them to rise again. This time I put them on the opposite side of the fire. I didn't want them to be stepped on by accident. I'd cleaned up and was heading back to sit on the bed when Mulder spoke up.

"That stew smells really good, Scully."

"Are you hungry?" I smiled at him.

"Yeah." He nodded.

"The stew will be at least another half an hour, but if you can wait an hour, you can have fresh bread to go with it," I tempted him.

He smacked his lips. "That would be great."

"Would you like something to tide you over?" I chuckled.

"Sure." He sounded gleeful.

In five minutes I'd given everyone an apple and a piece of cheese. Wanik watched as the rest of us bit into our apples and then followed suit. She said something to Jack with her mouth full of apple.

"Apple," he told her. "Wanik says it's delicious," he turned to me.

"It is," Mulder agreed vehemently. "I had no idea how much I missed fresh fruit."

By the time we were done, the bread was ready to be baked. Rosaline had showed me how to judge the temperature of the oven by seeing how long I could keep my arm in it. Mulder's recess would prove more difficult. I wasn't going to be able to put my whole arm into it. I thrust my hand in and began to count. At thirteen I had to snatch it out again. That was three seconds longer than I could hold my arm in at bread baking temperature. Since the skin on my hand was tougher, I assumed that I could keep it in the heat longer; making me hope the temperature was close enough.

After sliding the bread in the oven, I opened the front door of the cabin. I was hoping it was close to noon. I'd been so busy in the morning I'd forgotten to look earlier, and it looked like I'd missed it. I'd have to try again tomorrow. I took the clock down and set it to one o'clock. It was better than nothing. I went to work again on the shirt, keeping my eye on the clock. At quarter after, I turned the bread around. The loaves had risen nicely and the tops were beginning to brown.

When it was time to check the bread again, I had the shirt completely deconstructed and pinned to the wrapping paper. The men already had the second window in and were securing it in place. The second installation went faster than their first. I saw that they were getting ready to sweep up, so I stopped them.

"Leave that. Lunch is ready. I can clean it up later. Why don't you bring the other bench in and we'll eat."

While Mulder moved the table toward the center of the room, Jack fetched the bench. Then as Wanik dished out the stew, I brought a golden brown loaf of bread to the table. After I'd turned it out of the pan, I tapped the bottom and was happy to hear a hollow sound. Rosaline had shown me that trick to test if the bread was completely cooked.

"Looks good, Scully," Mulder said with a smile as he sat down.

"Thanks, your little recess worked like a charm." I returned his smile.

"Mmm, oven-bread." Jack's eyes lit up as he watched me slice it. "Town is the only place I've ever had it."

"You know, in the spring we could build an outdoor oven. Instead of being shaped like the fireplace, it would just be a box, with a smaller chimney and a bigger space for baking. Everyone could use it," Mulder thought aloud as he dunked his bread into the stew.

Wanik watched him and repeated his actions. "Mmm, minopogwad," she said with a smile when she'd swallowed.

"She says it tastes good," Jack told me.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that one out on my own," I said with a chuckle. "Miigwech, Wanik."

"And if we have an outdoor oven, the cabin won't get roasting hot when you cook in the summer." Mulder was still on his original train of thought.

"True," I said with a nod. "I think villages in Europe had community ovens."

"You mean it's not an original idea?" he said with a pout.

"Sorry." I couldn't help grinning.

The rest of the meal passed quickly and I wanted to get the men out of the cabin so Wanik and I could finish Jack's shirt.

"Could you chop some wood, please, Mulder? I need a variety of sizes so I can control the size of the fire better."

"Sure. You don't need any help here?" he asked as he stood up.

"Nope, we'll be fine."

I followed them outside to get water for the dishes and while I tidied up from lunch, Wanik swept up the mess from the second window. When she was done, she dried the bowls and stacked them on the table. Just as we finished the cabin door opened. As they put the freshly chopped wood into the wood box, I tried to think of another way to get rid of them for a while. It was a little ironic considering that if you'd asked me the previous day, I would've said I'd never let Mulder out of my sight ever again.

"Will you two be all right for a while?" Mulder asked when he turned around to face me. "Jack needs my help."

"Sure," I said nonchalantly. "We've got plenty to do."

"Okay. We shouldn't be too late." He bent to give me a kiss. Before he left, he grabbed a pair of mittens and a cap I'd knit for him before we left Madison.

As soon as the cabin door was closed, Wanik and I went to work. I quickly cut the shirt pieces out and then unpinned it from the brown paper. I pinned one of the cuffs to a sleeve of Jack's shirt and did the same with Mulder's old one. Then I showed Wanik that she needed to make small stitches, very close together. She got the hang of it quickly and we spent the rest of the afternoon sitting at the table sewing. With the new windows, there was plenty of light.

Before we were done, the light began to fade, so I lit the candle, but it wasn't long before it didn't provide enough light for sewing, so we folded up our work. My mantle clock read just before five.

I had plenty of stew for supper and bread enough even for our Thanksgiving meal, but what I didn't have was pie. That was something else I'd made enough of in Madison that I had it ready to go in Mulder's oven in half an hour. Wanik had watched the entire process in bemusement. She'd obviously never seen a pie before.

The smell of apples and cinnamon was just starting to fill the room when the cabin door burst open.

"Surprise!" Mulder shouted and lifted his arm over his head.

"Is that a –"

"A turkey!" He nodded vigorously. "I asked Jack if there were any turkeys around here when we were chopping the wood and he said he knew just the place. We stopped at the camp and Abequa plucked it for us." 

Jack stood behind Mulder with a proud grin on his face.

"That's great, Mulder, but I have no idea how to cook it without an oven. Will we stew it?"

"No, we already figured it out. We'll use the spit."

"The spit? Won't someone have to be turning it the entire time?" I hated to ruin his surprise, but I couldn't turn a spit all day and prepare the rest of the food too.

"We thought about that too. Remember that candy I bought? And there's a camp full of kids, right over there." He nodded toward the village with a grin.

"You're gonna bribe them?" I asked with a laugh.

"Damn right." He grinned. "They can take turns." He turned to look at the fireplace. "Is that pie I smell?"

"It's for tomorrow."

"But I should probably test it to make sure it's good." He bobbed his head as he spoke.

I shook my head. "Nice try."

"Just a sliver? After I slogged through the woods to get you this turkey, you'd think a little piece of pie wouldn't be too much to ask?"

"I said no. So, Jack, will you and Wanik stay for supper?" I looked at Jack over Mulder's shoulder, who I could tell was still trying to think of a way to get what he wanted.

"Wanik already asked me to eat at her parent's wigwam tonight," he told me with an apologetic tone.

"That's okay, Jack," I assured him with a smile. "But you have to come tomorrow for Thanksgiving."

"Thanksgiving?" He cocked his head at me.

"When we give thanks for the bounty we've been given," I explained, leaving out the part about God because I knew they didn't share that belief.

"Like how we thank the Great Mother at the Harvest Moon." Jack nodded in understanding.

I smiled. "Yeah, like that."

"But the moon was full while we were gone," Jack sounded confused.

There wasn't an easy way to explain when twentieth century Americans celebrated Thanksgiving. In fact, if memory served, the November Thanksgiving I knew was set by Abraham Lincoln. Gooseflesh spread over my body when it suddenly occurred to me that the Great Emancipator was alive and living in Kentucky, or maybe Illinois, I couldn't remember when he'd made the move, if I ever knew.

"You okay, Scully?" Mulder was suddenly beside me with a hand on my arm.

"Yeah, fine, sorry. Just thinking. We usually celebrate around the harvest, too, but not the full moon. This year we were a little too busy," I explained with a smile.

"We were," Jack agreed with a chuckle. "Ambe, Wanik." He gave her a toothy smile that made me wish she would agree to marry him despite his work.

"Jack could you please ask Wanik's parents and Omiga to come tomorrow, too? Now I'll have far too much food just for the four of us and Thanksgiving is about family, too." I was excited about having a houseful to feed. It had been a long time, the boarding house notwithstanding. Olathe and Wematin had only been here for the housewarming and Olathe had come for the sewing party I'd had when Mulder was away. Considering how close Wanik and I were, I didn't see them that much.

"A feast!" Jack grinned. "It's a good idea. Wiikom-Day-na," he turned to tell Wanik. A smile spread across her face.

"Miigwech, Day-na. Ombendam," Wanik began, but then she started speaking quickly and I couldn't keep up with her.

Jack must have seen the look of bewilderment on my face, because he chuckled and said, "She's excited. We'll see you tomorrow."

Even with the door closed I could hear Wanik's gleeful chattering as she and Jack made their way back to the village. Mulder had other things on his mind.

"So, that pie..." he leaned close to my ear to whisper.

"Oh, I need to check it." I hurried to the hearth. The filling was starting to bubble out of the slits I made in the crust, but the crust itself was still looking pale. It needed another five or ten minutes. After I rotated it to make sure it browned evenly, I put two more pieces of wood on the fire to make sure the temperature stayed hot enough. When I was done, I turned around to find Mulder watching me with a gleam in his eye. Normally he looked at me like that when he was aroused, not because of pie.

"I said no." I put my hands on my hips and gave him my best steely glare. It had been a long time since I used it on him. By the way he seemed to grow smaller before my eyes, I knew he realized he'd lost this one, but he said nothing. "Do you think the turkey will be okay in the lean-to or should you put it in the meat shed?"

"I think the lean-to will be cool enough," he said thoughtfully. "It might freeze in the shed."

"True." I nodded as he turned toward the back door. "And I think it's time to try out that new tub of yours. Don't you?"

The grin he gave me over his shoulder was all the answer I needed.

Mulder set the copper tub a few feet from the fire. The flames shimmered and shone on its gleaming metal. After emptying all of the water I had on hand into it, Mulder went outside to fetch more. I filled the kettle and one large pot and then swung them over the fire to heat. Once Mulder had emptied two more buckets into the tub, we both stared at it pensively. The water we'd added had barely made a dent in the volume of the tub. I only had to glance at him to know we were thinking the same thing. It was going to take forever to the heat enough water for this tub.

"I have an idea," Mulder said as he turned to grab the deerskin rug by our bed. "Copper is a good conductor of heat. Right?"

I nodded in agreement. "Right. All metals are." I watched as he picked up the tub and set it on the rug. I wasn't sure what he was planning. It's not like we could put it directly on the fire.

"We might as well take advantage of the heat the fire is throwing off. Let's use the rug to pull this close to it." He bent to grab one end of the rug. I took the other and we pulled the tub very close to the fire.

"I need to look at the pie again," I said as soon as straightened up. Once I had my pot holders, I squeezed in between the tub and fire to retrieve the pie.

The top was nicely browned and the sugar had caramelized to a dark golden brown at the edges of the crust.

I smiled as I shimmied back out. "Perfect." I tilted the pie slightly to show him. "But next time, before you move the tub, could you wait until I don't have to work in there anymore."

"Sorry. Say something next time."

"I doubt it'll come up, anyway." I brushed it off with a shrug. "I don't imagine I'll be baking many pies at 7 o'clock at night," I said with a quick glance at the clock.

"But there will be more pie baking?" he asked hopefully.

"There could be," I answered with a saucy smile as I turned from setting the pie down on the table. "If you're good."

"Oh, I'm always good, Scully," he said in a low voice as he stepped closer to me. "And you can personally attest to that."

"Yeah. And modest, too," I said with a roll of my eyes even as his arms closed around me.

But, damn him, it was true. As soon as our lips met, I collapsed against him. It was a good thing we hadn't started a sexual relationship when we were working together. I would've been following him around saying "Yes, Mulder. Whatever you want, Mulder. " Who was I trying to kid? I practically did that without the sex. Women complain about men thinking with their little heads. Around Mulder, I wasn't much better.

As we kissed, Mulder began to work on the tiny buttons of my dress. When he eased it off my shoulders and it fell to floor, I pulled away from him to pick it up.

"Are we making love before or after the bath?" I grinned up at him as folded my dress.

"Yes." He bent to pick me up. In two of his long strides we were at the bed. "We haven't come anywhere close to making up for that lost time," he said as he straightened up from laying me on the bed.

My skin grew hot as his eyes travelled over me. I was in a loosely bound corset and cotton underwear that reached my knees. Mulder made me feel like I was wearing risqué lingerie.

"Why are you wearing the corset if you can't really do it up?" Mulder asked as he reached for the string of my pantaloons.

"Because I have one bra and two corsets. I have to wear something," I explained as I lifted my hips for him.

"Why?"

"Aside from the fact that I've worn a bra since I was thirteen and would feel weird without one, I'm trying to fight gravity. Especially since my breasts are bigger."

"Mmm, they are getting quite big," he said as he pulled me to a sitting position. "I think they should come out to play."

"If you think they're big now, wait until my milk comes in," I said with a chuckle as I turned to give him access to my corset laces.

"Will I be allowed to touch them then?"

"Probably not right away, but don't forget I'll be out of commission for about six weeks, so best not to tempt yourself anyway," I told him over my shoulder.

"Will they still be big after that?" he asked. "Here, stand up." He helped me off the bed before I could answer.

"I'll be breast feeding until the baby is at least a year, if not older, Mulder. So, yes."

"Mmm, good," he said as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He was still fully clothed and I was naked except for my moccasins. I was expecting him to start undressing himself, but instead he pulled me in between his parted legs.

"They're even bigger than when I left for Green Bay," he said as he tested the weight of one breast.

"I'm getting the feeling that you'd prefer it if my breasts were always bigger," I said softly as he ran his thumb over my nipple.

"Hmm?" He looked up at me with dilated pupils. "No, I just find it fascinating. I don't like them more or less. They're your breasts, Scully. That makes them incredible, whatever size they are. Do I think it's really cool that I'll get to enjoy a variety of sizes? Absolutely! And I still think it's amazing that I'm allowed anywhere near them." With that his hot mouth closed over my nipple.

"Jesus, Mulder." I groaned and put my hand on the back of his head to hold him where he was. When he applied some suction, I felt a rush of moisture between my legs.

I was mildly surprised when he pushed back against my hand. I looked down to find a shocked look on his face.

"What?"

"I got, um, something um..." he sputtered.

"Did something come out of my breast, Mulder?" It took everything I had not to laugh at him.

"Yeah." 

"Did it taste bad?"

He tested the taste in his mouth again. "No, kinda sweet, actually."

"It's called colostrum and it's right on schedule. I'll be producing it until just after the baby's born. It comes with the bigger breasts, Mulder."

"So it's okay for me to, uh..." The tentative look on his face was very cute.

"There is no medical issue for me, you or the baby, if you drink my colostrum. Is that what you're asking?"

"That's what I'm asking."

"So you won't be surprised to get a mouthful of breast milk if you do that when I'm nursing?" I stroked the top of his head.

"But wouldn't I be taking milk away from the baby?"

"No, it's a supply and demand kind of thing. I'll produce whatever is needed."

"Huh." He stared at my breasts in fascination.

"I guess there's another thing I should tell you." I tried to keep any amusement out of my voice.

"There's more?"

"Mmm hmm." I nodded with a smile. "If we have sex when my breasts are full, they may squirt when I come."

Mulder grinned at me. "That I knew."

"How? Have you had sex with a nursing mother?" I asked in shock.

He shook his head with a chuckle. "No, but there's some porn devoted to that phenomenon."

"You're kidding! And you watch - watched it?"

"One time the wrong video was in the case I rented. I watched out of curiosity," he admitted with a shrug.

"Of course you did." I rolled my eyes.

"And at the time it did absolutely nothing for me, but now –"

"Now what?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Now I'd really like to make that happen to you." He slipped his arms under the cheeks of my ass and lifted me up.

As soon as I was on the bed again he started pulling off his clothes.

"You'll have to wait a while to try," I reminded him.

"But we'll have fun practicing," he said in a gravelly voice as he climbed onto the bed with me.

I smiled up at him as he positioned himself between my legs. "Not a doubt in my mind."

"Scully," he said hoarsely as he eased into me. "Love you so much."

When we'd started this pre-bath romp, I expected vigorous sex, but something in our conversation changed things. Mulder made love to me very slowly. He alternated between kissing me deeply and watching my face. While I thoroughly enjoyed the slow, sensual sex, I didn't climax the way I did with our more energetic efforts. Not that I minded. They were different experiences. I actually got to watch Mulder more during slow sex. Normally I was coming too much to be able to focus on him. When his body grew tense and he began to thrust into me harder, my orgasm finally swelled and burst over me in a hot tingling wave. Mulder groaned my name as he succumbed right after me.

The first thing I heard as I surfaced from my post-orgasmic fog was the lid of the kettle rattling.

"Water's ready," I murmured, not bothering to open my eyes.

"Mmm, wanna snuggle."

Upon hearing his raspy request, my mind ran through the possibilities. Stay in bed with Mulder, bodies entwined, smelling of sex, definitely having sex again, becoming even more fragrant, then having a houseful of my new family tomorrow. Granted, there were parts of that scenario that were very enticing, but others, not so much. Second scenario; a warm soapy bath with Mulder, more sex and then a lot of company.

"We could snuggle in the tub," I offered mildly, thinking I knew what his response would be.

"Will I be allowed to wash your back?" he asked without moving a muscle.

I'd actually been expecting him to be a little more eager about getting into the tub with me. I still had more ammunition.

"You can wash whatever you like."

"Mn, Scully, we've never had a bath together," he said drowsily.

"No. No, we haven't." I opened my eyes and smiled at him.

"Warm, slippery, soapy, sexy Scully. I like the sound of that. Why were you trying to talk me out of a bath?" His hazel eyes took on a mischievous gleam.

"I didn't –"

"Yes, you did!" He pushed himself up on his elbow. "You practically begged to stay wrapped in my arms, all soft and warm and smelling like sex."

"I said you were soft?" I asked in amusement.

"Damn it. Why did I have to fall in love with a trained investigator?" he asked with a grin as he sat up.

"Just lucky, I guess," I said with a laugh as I got off the bed. "Can you pull the tub away so I can get the water?"

Mulder's idea worked and the water in the tub had warmed up. The water in the kettle was boiling and the large pot was getting close so we had to add several buckets of well water to bring the temperature down so we could get in.

Before getting in, we both washed our hair leaning over the tub. Since I used harsh soap to wash it, I'd expected my hair to become dry and unmanageable, but the opposite was true. It hadn't been this shiny or healthy in years. It could have something to with the fact that it hadn't seen a blow dryer or straightening iron in almost six months. Or maybe it was a pregnancy thing or perhaps a combination of the two. Either way, even if my hair was healthier, I missed washing it in the shower. In the spring I would have to remember to ask Mulder if he could rig up a shower a la Gilligan's Island. It wasn't that I couldn't set one up on my own, but by the time it was warm enough to shower outside, I was either going to be ready to pop or perhaps just given birth.

In spite of the bigger tub, it was still a tight fit, but we managed. I sat between Mulder's legs and leaned back against his chest. It had been a long time since I didn't have to sit cross-legged to have a bath. As I was relishing the feeling of soaking in the steamy water with my back pressed against Mulder's well defined chest and abdomen I was struck by a thought that made me laugh out loud.

"What?" Mulder murmured distractedly. He was busy lathering up my breasts.

"Do you have any idea how many of my fantasies we are currently fulfilling?"

"How many?" he asked as his soapy fingers teased my nipples.

"Okay, not even counting that we're together, happy and healthy or that I'm pregnant with your child, let's see – you and me in a tub, you and me naked in front of a fire, you and me in candlelight –"

"You fantasized about being pregnant by me?" I could hear surprise in his voice.

"Well the fantasy would usually start off with one us confessing our feelings and then we'd have sex, lots of sex. Our apartments got quite the workout in my fantasies. Sometimes you moved in with me, sometimes you didn't. But in the fantasies where I discovered that I was miraculously pregnant, we we're always living together." For some reason I wasn't embarrassed sharing this deep dark secret with Mulder; although I did hold some parts back.

"Women have weird fantasies," he chuckled as his hands slid down to caress the swell of my belly.

"Well, what did you fantasize about?"

He lowered his head to whisper in my ear. "Scully, the only commonality in our fantasies was the lots of sex part."

"You didn't think about us being in a relationship?"

"Not as part of my sexual fantasies, but did I think about wanting to spend the rest of my life with you? Only every day since November 1994." He tightened his arms around me.

"November of '94? When I was returned?" A slight shudder ran through me at the thought.

"No, I knew I was in love with you before you were returned."

"But Duane Barry took me in October. Did you realize while I was missing?"

"Admitted it to myself, I guess. I'd been fantasizing about you since you stripped for me in Bellefleur."

I turned to stare at him in disbelief.

"C'mon, Scully, what do you expect. You stand there in your underwear and ask me to inspect your ass and you think that's not going to make its way into my fantasies?"

I could only shake my head, but I was more curious about when he'd fallen in love with me. "I still don't get it. It was some time in between when I was taken and when I was returned?"

"Yeah."

I waited for him to elaborate, but he said nothing. Mulder and I never talked about what happened while I was missing, but I had read the file from the one case he'd investigated. The Gunmen filled in the blanks for me.

"Oh." I nodded slowly. "Sleeping with someone else made you realize you were in love with me."

"Not exactly."

"Then what exactly?" I wished he would just spit it out.

He heaved a sigh. "I was messed up, Scully. I felt responsible for what Duane Barry did to you."

I wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, but I knew if I interrupted, he'd never finish.

"I didn't sleep with her to feel something. It was to stop what I was feeling. It didn't work. It made everything so much worse. I thought at first it was guilt over sleeping with someone who was part of an investigation and that my actions may have contributed to her death. But it finally hit me when I was worried about you finding out about what I'd done and I don't mean what you think of me professionally. That's when I knew."

We'd been having a very romantic evening and because I couldn't leave well enough alone, we'd wandered into very dark territory. It had been a long time since we'd been here. I didn't miss it in the least.

"Why are we talking about this? I thought you were explaining how I fulfilled your every fantasy." His hands were back on my breasts.

I thanked Mulder silently for reading my mind.

"Did I say my every fantasy?" I turned to face him. My feet were pressed against the end of the tub and then my body curved along his, arched like his own personal bow sprit.

"That's what I chose to hear," he said before leaning forward to kiss me softly.

After our kiss I knelt carefully between his legs and began to wash his chest. He watched me as I progressed to his shoulders and then his arms. I could tell he was thinking about something, but after our last foray into the darkness, I wasn't going to push him.

"So these fantasies of yours, how detailed were they?"

Mulder's mind had returned to realms I was happy to talk about.

"Do you mean did I think about what it would be like to kiss you, or how you would feel inside of me?"

"No, that's not what I mean, but hold that thought, we can go back to it later. I meant when you fantasized about us living together. Is that as far as it went?"

"How much further can it go?"

"Oh, c'mon, Scully, a good Catholic girl like you? Surely some of your fantasies went a little further."

"I think you're confusing me with my mother," I told him dryly.

"Are you being completely honest with me?" His eyes bored into mine.

"Honestly, Mulder, I fantasized about spending my life with you and raising a family; sometimes we had a miracle baby, sometimes we adopted. Did I have wedding fantasies? Never." I shook my head. "I think in my fantasies it probably flitted across my mind that to adopt, we'd have to be married, but that wasn't what I was fantasizing about. I don't need you to make a public promise to me, Mulder. I trust you when you tell me you want us to spend our lives together. In fact, why would I want to marry someone I didn't trust to keep that promise? I don't need you to sign a piece of paper so that I can prove to people that you love me."

"I know I've said this before, but marry me, Scully." He grinned devilishly at me.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Everyone thinks we *are* married, Mulder."

He nodded thoughtfully. "True. Okay then, Mrs. Mulder, I can feel my ass starting to prune so let's get out of this tub and get to bed. We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow."

End ogf 19


	20. Chapter 20

Title: Old Growth Forest chapter 20 – An Old Growth Forest Thanksgiving.

Author: Andrea

Rating: This chapter is PG, but the story is rated M

Disclaimer: This work was created as an homage. No infringement is intended.

Thanks to Dan and Mendy for beta reading. Thanks to Tanya for advice and support.

Notes: Mushy stuff ahead. You've been warned!

While I was doing the breakfast dishes on Saturday morning, Mulder disappeared outside. As I began to peel potatoes, I heard him rummaging around in the lean-to. Then the sawing and hammering started. I had to cook a meal for seven people, using a fireplace and he decided it was a good time to build something. I seethed as I peeled.

Half an hour later he walked into the cabin and held up a small table. I'd moved on to the stuffing.

"Ta da!" he said with enough enthusiasm to irritate me further.

I looked over my shoulder at his masterwork and frowned. "Did you really need to do that now?" I turned back to the table to continue to tear apart the partial loaf of bread that was left from the previous day. It was a very cathartic act. "I've got vegetables to prepare. I have to stuff the bird and get it skewered before our first helper shows up. I need to set the table, make the bed, bring in the bench from outside, keep the fire stoked and make sure everything is clean before our guests arrive," I ranted at him with my back turned.

"Do you need some help?"

I said nothing. Instead I turned to glare at him over my shoulder.

"I'll help you, Scully. I promise. But I've gotta get rid of this beard. It's driving me crazy." He gave me his best pitiful look.

It didn't work.

"Fine, whatever," I said with a wave of my hand and then went back to the bread. "But you're not doing that in here. I have enough to clean up as it is."

I was about to step over to the mantle to grab the salt and pepper when he slipped his arms around my waist. "It won't take me long," he told me softly. "Then I'll come back and be your kitchen slave. Okay?"

I only grunted in response, since I was still annoyed, but less so.

"Don't be grumpy on Thanksgiving," he said, breathing into my ear. My resolve began to dwindle when I felt his lips on my neck, but I didn't let on.

"Mulder, I have a lot to do," I complained with a sigh.

"I'm not going anywhere until you cheer up," he informed me as he slid his hands up to cup my breasts.

I turned in his arms. "Mulder!"

"What?" His hands dropped to my rear-end and he pulled me against him.

Even through my skirt and petticoat I could feel his erection. The weirdest things turned him on, but that shouldn't have been a surprise to me. When I tilted my head up, intending to tell him to get a move on, he covered my mouth with his.

My frustration drained away as his tongue delved into my mouth. One of his hands left my bottom and soon he was squeezing my breast. My moan of pleasure into his mouth was his signal to break our kiss.

"There," he said with a grin. "Now you're in a better mood. I won't be long." With that, he turned, picked up his table and took it out to the porch.

Damn him and his ability to get around me so easily. It was a good thing we hadn't pursued a relationship when we were working together. We would've done everything Mulder's way after playing a little grab-ass in the office first. I could only shake my head at the thought.

It took a few trips, and of course he got in my way while he got some hot water and then had to ask where the scissors were. After he promised to clean them when he was finished, I was on my own again.

After adding a diced onion, some sage and melted lard to my bread, I stirred up the mixture. Then I peered into the bowl in concern. The amount in the bowl looked meagre compared to my usual stuffing, although in all honesty, it was my mother's recipe. Every recipe I knew by heart had come from one of three woman; my mother, Wanik and Rosaline. My mother's recipe had celery and sausage in it, but I had neither of those. I did have raisins, apples, walnuts and chestnuts. I'd heard of people using them in stuffing, but I never had.

Before winging it, I decided to see if Mulder had any particular preferences or aversions. Stuffing wasn't a subject we'd ever discussed. When I opened the front door, I found that he'd hung the mirror off a nail he tacked into the wall. Staring intently at his reflection, with his mouth open to draw his skin taut, he deftly used the straight razor to shave the left side of his jaw. In Madison it had taken a couple of weeks to become accustomed to using it. Looking at him now, you'd think he'd shaved this way his entire life.

Leaning against the doorframe, I watched his toilette as I explained my stuffing predicament. His nose wrinkled briefly at the mention of raisins and apples.

"I've never been fond of fruit in my stuffing, but chestnuts might be interesting." His eyes flicked over at me, but he didn't turn his head.

Looking past him, I discovered a fire burning brightly in the fire pit. "Okay, I'll give it a whirl," I said with a smile. "And thanks for starting the fire out here."

He lifted the razor from his face to grin at me. "I'm just trying to do my part and I hafta make sure it's good and hot for the turkey. Right?"

"Right," I said as I walked over to him. "C'mere," I crooked my finger at him. When he leaned closer, I kissed his lips, trying to avoid the skin he hadn't shaved yet. "And thank you."

Fifteen minutes later Mulder started bringing everything back into the house. I'd just finished roasting the chestnuts and was letting them cool. Opening the door to retrieve what was left of his shaving accoutrements; Mulder stepped onto the porch and almost bowled over our first helper, Soyala's middle daughter Rayen.

The eight year olds soft brown eyes widened at the sight of Mulder about to trample her and she ducked out of his way and into the house nimbly and quickly.

"Kwe kwe, Rayen," I welcomed her with a smile.

She returned my smile as she hung her wrap beside my coat. "Kwe kwe, Day-na."

"Bekaa," I said and patted the bench. "I still have a few things to do."

Sitting where I suggested, Rayen watched as I pulled off the chestnut shells. Then she popped up and said something I didn't understand and held her hands out. I furrowed my brow at her. Taking the knife and chestnut from me, she repeated what she'd said and took over shelling the nuts.

"Oh, miigwech, Rayen," I said, patting her shoulder. After giving me a little smile, she focused on her task.

With my helper shelling the chestnuts, I was freed up to start with the turkey. Abequa had done an amazing job plucking the bird and I was happy the head and feet had been removed. Mulder had also cleaned it before he brought it home. I wouldn't have minded doing it myself, but it definitely saved me some time.

I was standing with the turkey under one arm and the skewer in the opposite hand when Mulder finished setting up the pitcher and bowl on his new table.

"Are you ready to run that sucker through?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yup. Could you hold it for me? I'll try not to run you through at the same time," I told him with a straight face.

"You don't want to stuff it first?"

"I was planning to stuff around the skewer," I said with a shrug.

"Apine, Day-na," Rayen turned around to tell me she was done.

"I know you've got a good eye with a gun, but I've never seen you with a bayonet, so how about you finish the stuffing and I'll wield that weapon myself," he said as he reached for the skewer.

"Don't you trust me?" I blinked innocently at him.

"With my life, Scully," he said as he took the bird. "Just not with my balls after you were pissed at me," he added wryly.

"I value your balls as much as I value your life, Mulder," I lowered my voice to inform him and then turned toward the table.

"Damn," he said softly and with what sounded like reverence.

After quartering the chestnut and throwing it into the bowl, Rayen repeated what she'd said earlier and held out her hand. I presumed she was saying 'I can do that', so I let her take over. Even with the nuts, I was still worried that I wouldn't have enough stuffing, but then I had an idea.

After dashing to the lean-to, I returned with a crock. Mulder looked confused, but just watched with interest.

"Ready?" he asked, holding the skewered bird in front of him.

"Yeah, but could you just hold it over the table? That way I won't have to wash the table when I'm done."

"Sure," he said with a shrug.

So while he held the bird, I took handfuls from the bowl and stuffed them into the bird.

"You do that with a lot of gusto," Mulder said wryly when I was half done.

"Hmm?" I looked up at him.

"You seem very much at home, wrist deep in the turkey," he clarified.

"I always ended up stuffing the bird. It always made Missy queasy, even before she went vegetarian," I said offhandedly.

"But not little Dana," he chuckled. "She had to prove she could handle anything."

"I was a middle kid, Mulder. I wasn't the oldest. I wasn't the youngest, so I became the toughest. And the smartest," I said with a grin as I continued to stuff the bird.

He grinned unabashedly at me. "And the most beautiful."

I shook my head. "Oh, I dunno about that. It was Missy that had all the boys chasing her."

"Only because you intimidated the crap outta them," he chuckled. "I bet that changed in college."

"Yeah and by then I wasn't interested. I was trying to get into med school and spent all of my free time at the library. They tried to entice me with keggers," I recalled with a roll of my eyes.

"I would've made out with you in the stacks," he said; his grin becoming mischievous.

"I'm sure you would have." I shook my head as I scraped out the last of the stuffing.

"Still would," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "Even if you are knocked up."

"You're the one that knocked me up!"

"Be that as it may, I'd still make out with you in the stacks."

To my surprise, I almost had enough stuffing to fill the bird. To ensure it stayed put, I cut two thin slices of salt pork and used them to hold the stuffing in. Then I got some twine from the lean-to and trussed the legs onto the skewer. Once I was done, Mulder carried it outside. Rayen and I followed him and I showed her how slowly I wanted her to turn the skewer.

"Haaw," she said with a nod and took the handle from me.

As I turned to head inside I said to Mulder, "Could you give her some candy as soon as you wash your hands. She's been so helpful."

"As opposed to me?" he said, sounding slightly offended.

"That's not what I meant. And I do prefer you without the beard," I admitted with a grin.

"Thought so," he said and grabbed hold of me.

I gasped in surprise as he pulled me against him and rubbed his cheek against mine. "Smooth as a baby's bottom now, huh?"

"Yes, you're lovely," I said, laughing.

"Mmm, almost as pretty as you," he lowered his voice to say before he kissed me.

Rayen giggled at us from her position by the fire.

"And bring her a chair too, please," I said when he released me. "She's gonna fall over from boredom in a while."

When Mulder came back into the cabin, he kept his promise and did everything I asked of him. He fetched water, fed the fires, made the bed, pulled the table away from the wall and brought in the bench from outside. I'd halved two squash, put them in bread tins and was putting them in the bread oven when I heard Rayen's voice behind me.

"Who's turning the turkey?" I asked in alarm.

"Kimi," she said, followed by some words I didn't understand.

Looking up at the clock, I discovered it was already ten after eleven. I panicked for a second, but when I took a quick mental stock of what I had to do, I realized everything was under control. The potatoes were ready to go on the fire; the squash was in. The bread and pie, I'd made ahead of time. The only two things I was missing were gravy and cranberry sauce.

Rayen said something else I didn't understand as Mulder returned from stoking the fire outside.

"I won't be able to make turkey gravy," I told him apologetically. "The fat is just dripping into the fire."

"Oh well," he said, shrugging.

"I could make some with lard or the grease from the salt pork," I offered.

From the way he wrinkled his nose I gathered he didn't like the sound of that.

"Homemade gravy is made from fat, Mulder. I'm just not sure how gravy made from lard would taste with the turkey."

"It'll be fine. We don't need gravy," he assured me and then turned to Rayen. "Here," he said as he pulled a bag out of his pocket. "Take this out to Kimi. You can have another piece too, if you want."

"Day-na?" Rayen looked at me and then gestured to the table and the fire.

"Oh, sweetie." I walked over and gave her a hug. "I don't need any more help," I said, kissed the top of her head and turned her toward the door. As soon as she opened it, she said something excitedly to Kimi.

Turning back to Mulder, I said, "Do you think we have enough food?"

"What is it with you and food? Did your parents grow up during the depression like mine and feel the need to obsessively hoard food?"

"Well, yeah. But I'd hate to invite people to our home for dinner and not have enough food for them," I said worriedly.

"I like the sound of that," Mulder said as a grin spread across his face.

"What?" I asked in amazement. "You like the sound of not having enough to feed people?"

"No, our home," he said softly. "C'mere." He sat on the bench and patted his knee. "Tell me what we've got."

As soon as I settled into his lap, he wrapped his arms around my waist. That action alone calmed me down.

"Well, we have the turkey and stuffing, potatoes, squash, bread and pie. See, it's not much and we don't have butter or gravy for the potatoes or bread. Should I cook some carrots?"

"It may not be a huge variety of food, Scully, but there'll be plenty of everything. Considering the circumstances, I think what you've made is pretty incredible," he said reassuringly.

"But without gravy the bread will be so boring," I said, starting to fret again.

"How much fat do you need for the gravy?"

"Um, a couple of tablespoons; a quarter cup at most. Why? Do you have an idea?"

"Well, Rayen is looking for something to do. Maybe she could catch some drippings for you. Do you have a long-handled spoon?" he asked as he gave me a squeeze.

"You don't think she'll burn herself?"

"Scully, these girls know their way around a fire far better than you or I do," he said as he stood me up.

"True," I agreed with a sigh.

"Will that make you fell better, to have some gravy too?"

"Yeah, and you're right. There isn't a huge selection, but there will be plenty of what we have."

After getting Mulder a spoon and a cup to keep the drippings in, I went outside with him and watched as he squatted by the fire. Both girls watched as he moved the spoon under the turkey to catch the fat and then transferred it to the cup. All he had to do was glance at Rayen and she nodded happily.

Feeling more at ease, I went inside and set the table. There were going to be seven of us and luckily I'd brought eight place settings with me from Madison. They weren't heavy to carry and I'd thought a great deal about the amount of work Mulder would have to do after I had the baby. I figured that if he only had to wash dishes once a day, it would make his life easier. That forethought meant no one had to eat off pie plates or out of bowls. I'd even have one plate leftover to act as my turkey platter, such as it was. With the table done, I went to the lean-to and emptied out one of my baskets to put the bread in. I heard the ring of Mulder's axe as he chopped more wood for the fires.

When I walked back into the cabin my stomach grumbled loudly. Outside a third young voice had joined the chatter. As I was pondering whether or not I should eat something, the door burst open and Mulder came in with an armload of wood.

"Good timing. I need to add more in here." I nodded at the hearth. "Are you hungry?"

"A little," he said with a shrug." But I don't want to spoil my Thanksgiving dinner."

"I'll make something small. And I'm sure the girls must be hungry. How's it going with the drippings?" I asked as he fed the fire.

"We have at least half a cup," he said as he stood up. "I'll go get it."

He was gone longer than I expected. When he got back, I was already cooking some bannock that I'd mixed up. I'd also sliced several thin pieces of cheese. After I flipped the bannock in the pan, I set the cheese on top. Mulder looked on with interest as he set the cup of drippings on the mantle.

"And on Thanksgiving Day in 1838, Dana Scully invented the grilled cheese sandwich," he said in a commentator voice.

"Well, an open-face grilled cheese sandwich," I corrected him with a smile. After sliding my creation onto my spare plate/platter, I handed it to him. "Try it."

Turning back to the fire, I started a second piece of bannock by creating a ball of dough and then pressing into the pan. When I looked at Mulder again, half of the piece I'd given him was gone.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Good?"

"No, terrible," he said through a mouthful of cheesy bannock.

"Uh huh," I said with a shake of my head and went back to work.

Mulder took the bread out to the girls as I finished them. He told me they were switching off turning the turkey as they ate. After I finished mine, I washed the few dishes I'd dirtied and swung the potatoes over the fire. When Mulder reappeared I asked him if he could get me some more water and he started to laugh.

I furrowed my brow at him in confusion. "What? I need water."

"So, I gathered," he said, still chuckling. "Good thing that's one of the phrases I know in Mesquakie."

My eyes widened in surprise. "Did I really?"

"Yeah," he said as he stooped to grab the bucket. "But I guess that's to be expected. They say immersion is the best way to learn a language."

As soon as he returned with the water, he turned to head outside again.

"Don't go too far. I'll need your arm to mash these potatoes when they're done," I called after him.

"Okay," he answered with a chuckle before he closed the door.

Moving to the window, I looked outside to see Kimi taking a spoonful of drippings and drizzling it over the turkey. When she was done Aiyana stopped rotating the skewer. Mulder then wiggled one of its legs and shook his head. Aiyana started to turn the bird slowly again. Checking the clock, I discovered it was twelve-thirty. I hoped the bird would be done in an hour.

Twenty minutes later I called Mulder back in to mash the potatoes. Before he drained them, I took a couple of cups of the water to use for the gravy. Then as he mashed, I made a roué, let it get dark to give the gravy some color and then added salt, pepper and a little sage. Then, to make sure it didn't get lumpy, I slowly added the water, whisking furiously as I did.

As soon as Mulder finished with the potatoes, he went outside to monitor the bird. Without milk or butter the potatoes weren't very fluffy, but at least we'd have gravy for them. After I finished the gravy, I scooped the squash out into a bowl and topped it with a little brown sugar and cinnamon. Just as I put everything close to the fire to stay warm I heard clumping on the stairs.

Aiyana was first through the door, followed closely by Mulder. Kimi and Rayen trailed in after him.

He smiled proudly at me. "It's done. Where should I put it?"

"Damn. I don't have a cutting board. Let me grab my stone."

After retrieving the stone from the lean-to, I cleared a place for it on the table and set it down. Once Mulder put the bird down, he slowly pulled out the skewer. When he handed it to me I tested the section that had been inside the bird gingerly. I pulled my fingers away quickly.

"It's really hot," I said, smiling. "That's a good sign."

"I know you're worried about how much food we have, but how do you feel about giving the girls the legs and wings for their efforts?" Mulder suggested as he pulled the first leg off with ease; another good sign.

"It's big. I'm sure we'll have plenty," I agreed with a nod.

As soon as Mulder handed Aiyana the leg, all three girls grinned. They began pulling pieces of meat off immediately. When he offered them the second leg, their eyes grew wide and they thanked us in awe. Their eyes practically bugged out of their heads when he handed them the wings.

After I thanked them all individually, they dashed out the door and I heard the voices fade as they hurried back to the village."

"I think they preferred the turkey over the candy," Mulder said with a chuckle. "Are we ready to carve?"

"Shouldn't we let it rest?" I asked as he picked up the knife. "My mother always did."

"Nah, it'll be fine."

"Well, let me take out the stuffing first."

As soon as the stuffing was out Mulder went to work. I inspected the meat carefully as he went and to my relief I didn't see any hint of pink. Just as we'd agreed that he didn't need to carve any more, the door opened and Jack walked in. Behind him came Wanik carrying a basket and then her mother holding a pot. Trailing them was Wanik's father, Wematin. Omiga was bringing up the rear, also carrying a pot, but his was steaming. I immediately wondered what concoction he'd brought. Wematin carried the drinking bowls.

"You didn't have to bring anything," I said in dismay.

"Of course we did, Dana," Jack said heartily. "It's a feast."

Mulder smiled and winked at me.

"Did you know?' I mouthed at him.

He shook his head slightly and his smile broadened.

Wanik had made two batches of cornbread and Olathe had prepared a dish from wild rice and dried corn. Omiga put a bowl beside every plate, leaving almost no room for the food. Mulder saw me looking at the table with concern and quickly retrieved his new little table.

"Mulder, could you please slice the bread?" I asked as I began to move the food.

Then as I scurried around moving everything to the two tables, Omiga began to fill up the drinking bowls.

I stopped and sniffed the air. "What's that? It smells like cranberries."

Jack said something to Omiga and when he answered Jack began to chuckle. "He says it hot cranberry drink."

"I didn't know cranberries grew here. I could've made cranberry sauce. Maybe for Christmas," I said happily.

But Jack shook his head. "It's too late to pick them. Maybe next year. The bog is only about a three hour walk from here."

When the food was on the table, Omiga rumbled something else and everyone but Mulder and me reached for their bowls. We quickly followed suit. Everyone held their bowls in front of them while Omiga spoke. When he lifted the bowl to take a sip, so did our friends. Once again we mimicked our guests.

The cranberry drink was sweet and tangy. Mulder winced slightly and puckered his lips, making everyone laugh.

"What did Omiga say?" I asked Jack in between drinks.

"He thanked the Great Mother for her gifts. He thanked the Great Spirit for our health and our families. He thanked our ancestors for the knowledge they've given us and asked for their continued guidance," he translated for me and then drained his bowl.

As each person finished they took their seats.

"Go ahead. Dig in," I said as I sat down.

Mulder was the last to finish.

After all the plates were full, I was relieved to see there was still plenty of food in the bowls. Jack spoke in Mesquakie as he poured gravy over his turkey and potatoes, passed it to Olathe and then turned to me.

"Could I have some lard please, Dana?"

"Lard?" I repeated in shock. "What for?"

"For the bread," he said as if it was obvious.

"Sure," I said and went to the lean-to to get it.

He took the cup of lard I gave him, scooped some out with his knife and then showed our guests how to spread it on a slice of bread. Then he took a bite.

"Mmm," he said with a smile. "Next best thing to butter. Want some?" He offered the lard to Mulder.

"No thanks. I'll use my bread to soak up the gravy," Mulder said with a shake of his head. "This gravy is really good, Scully."

"You say that like you're surprised." Jack looked at Mulder with a puzzled look. "Dana is a good cook. Are you sure you don't want to put some lard on your bread? You don't know what you're missing."

"I'll take your word for it," Mulder said, forcing a smile. "And I know Dana's a good cook. I was complimenting her gravy because she went to a lot of trouble to make it. I wanted her to know I appreciate the effort." He was speaking to Jack, but looking at me.

I smiled at him. "Thank you, Mulder."

We all chatted as we enjoyed the meal. Despite having to translate, Jack was the first to reach for seconds. When he went for thirds, I cautioned him.

"Don't forget there's pie for dessert."

"Pie?" His hand stopped halfway to the turkey. He paused for a moment, but then grinned slyly at me. "I'll have room."

And he did.

By that point, no one was eating with as much fervor, but Jack still finished first.

"Eat up," he said and then said something in Mesquakie. "I have an announcement to make."

Everyone looked at him expectantly but I turned toward Wanik. When she saw me glance at her, she lowered her eyes and gave me a little smile. I prayed I was right about what that smile meant.

"What?" Mulder asked when he swallowed the pie in his mouth. "Just tell us."

"Nope. Eat up."

"I can't, Jack. I'm full." I looked at the small piece of pie on my plate. Even though it was barely more than a bite, it might as well have been an entire pie. There was no way I'd be able to eat it.

"I'll eat it," he said, grinning broadly.

"Was this just a ploy to get more pie?" Mulder asked accusingly.

"Maybe," Jack teased.

In the end, he not only finished mine, but Wanik's and her mother's too. The he leaned back against the wall, rubbed his belly and sighed.

"Jack!" I complained.

"Okay, okay." He straightened up. "I went to Namid to check with him, but he said he'd already made his decision. He agreed to have the blessing ceremony on the full moon, in five days," he spoke agonizingly slowly and then we had to wait while he translated what he'd said. Then he turned to us and smiled proudly. "Wanik has agreed to move into my wigwam."

"Wanik, I'm so happy for you!" I jumped up to hug her.

"Congratulations, old man," Mulder said as he stood to shake Jack's hand.

Everyone had stood up and we were all hugging. Omiga and Wematin slapped Jack's arm.

"How did you finally convince her?" I asked Jack when I finally got a chance to hug him.

"I have you to thank for that, Dana," he said and squeezed me a little tighter.

"Me?" I looked up at him.

"She said that if you could manage when Mulder went to Green Bay, so could she."

"I wouldn't say I managed," I said with a chuckle. "I was a mess."

"Yeah, but now you wouldn't be so worried if we weren't back exactly when we said we'd be. Wanik wanted to let you know not to worry, but she didn't know how to tell you," he explained as Wanik joined us. He said something to her, making her smile and murmur something to him. "She says she knew what you were thinking and yet you pulled yourself together and carried on. She says if you can be strong like that, so can she."

As he spoke, my eyes filled with tears and I pulled out of my embrace with Jack and threw my arms around her.

I was still sniffling when I heard Mulder's voice.

"More pregnancy tears?"

"Shut up, Mulder." I laughed through my tears as I pulled away from Wanik.

"I wish you every happiness," Mulder said softly and leaned in to kiss Wanik's cheek.

Smiling softly, with shining eyes, she said something to both of us and then put her hand on my belly.

"She says whenever we're all together she has almost every happiness and as soon as she's also carrying a child, she will have every possible happiness anyone could want."

"I know exactly what you mean, Wanik," I said as my eyes filled with tears again.

"Happy Thanksgiving," Mulder said, pulling me into his arms.

"It's the happiest Thanksgiving I've had since I was a kid." I smiled up at him. "Actually probably the happiest ever, because now I understand what it really means to be thankful."

End chapter 20


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